CiHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICIVIH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


35rra*p;ar*rWKW'rwwrM?'.--'''=-"''^^->,7iyts?wfti'^T5'rt^t 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this 
copy  which  may  be  bibliographically  unique, 
which  may  alter  any  of  the  images  ii<i  the 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checlced  below. 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


0 


I      I    Covers  damaged/ 


D 
D 


Couverture  endommag^e 

Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurte  et/ou  pellicul6e 

Cover  title  missing/ 

Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 


I      I    Coloured  maps/ 


Cartes  gdographiques  en  couleur 

Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 


I      I    Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 


D 
D 


D 


D 


Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
ReiiA  avec  d'autres  documents 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  re  llure  serr^e  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  int6rieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajouttes 
lors  d'une  restau  ration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte, 
mais,  lorsque  cela  dtait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  6t6  film^es. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  supplAmentaires: 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  At6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-dtre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  methods  normale  de  filmage 
sont  indiquAs  ci-dessous. 


D 
D 
D 

□ 


n 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film6  au  taux  do  rMuction  indiquA  ci-dessous. 

10X  14X  18X  22X 


Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommag6es 

Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Pages  restaur^es  et/ou  peiliculAes 

Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  d^coiortes,  tachet^es  ou  piqu6es 

Pages  detached/ 
Pages  d6tach6es 


I      I    Showthrough/ 


Transparence 

Quality  of  prir 

Qualit^  InAgale  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  materU 
Comprend  du  materiel  suppl^mentaire 


r~n    Quality  of  print  varies/ 

I     I   Includes  supplementary  material/ 


Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Mition  disponible 

Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  partiellement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  une  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  6X6  film6es  d  nouveau  de  fa^on  A 
obtenir  la  meilleure  Image  possible. 


26X 


30X 


X 


12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


l^mimmmmmmmmmmmmm 


mmmm 


I 

fier 

B 


ita 


lure. 


1 


t2X 


The  copy  filmed  here  has  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

Library  of  Congress 
Photoduplication  Service 

The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  Ail 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  — ►  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 

Maps,  piates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


1 

2 

3 

1 


L'exemplaire  fiim6  fut  reproduit  grfice  d  la 
gAn^rositd  de: 

Librai'y  of  Congress 
Photoduplication  Service 

Les  images  suivantes  ont  6t6  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  nettet6  de  l'exemplaire  fiimd,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 

Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimis  sont  filmds  en  commenpant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  salon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  filmfo  en  commen^ant  par  la 
premidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaftra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  —►  signifie  "A  SUIVRE  ",  le 
symbols  ▼  signifie  "FIN  ". 

Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  6tre 
filmte  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diff4rents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  Atre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  ciichd,  ii  est  film6  d  partir 
de  I'angle  sup6rieur  gauche,  de  gauche  d  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  n6cessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  m6thode. 


UjagAMM^^0^fgfl^ftif^i^' 


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BjiSia»i'«n'r6L»-.^  i. 


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— -^  ^--' — 


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lAMOND    ^UST. 


BY 


MRS.   JENNIE   FOWLER   WILLING, 

AUTHOR  or  "THROOOM  THR  DARK  TO  THR  DAV,"  ETC. 


CINSTXTIr 


CINCINNATI: 

HITCHCOCK    AND    WAUDKN. 

NEW  YORK:  PHILLIPS  &  HUNT. 

1880. 


//^ 


■*^« 


7h 


^mimmmm .  ■'ywu  I'^n  ij 


Copyright  by 

HITCHCOCK   A   WAL.DEN. 

1880. 


I 


fm^mimmmm  "ywiii  ■" 


-^jJi/- 


eojii&^ftm^. 


I.    Diamond  Dust, 

n.    Thinking, 

37 

III.  Married  People,  . 

77 

IV.  Saving  THE  Life..  .  . 

109 

V.      COURTKOUSNESS, 

VI.    My  Neighbor,  .... 

'57 

VII.    How  TO  GET  RID  OF '•The  Blues," „g 

VIII.    GrniNG  Rich 

'93 

IX.    Giving  by  Rule,  .  .  . 

.....   307 

X.    Growing  Old.  .  .  . 

aaa 


I 


plJ^JVTOKb  pif^M. 


I «     <- 


HTHERE  are  wonderful  things  to  be  seen  in 
J"  a  watch  factory;  plucky  little  machines  that 
bite  off  a  steel  bar  with  c  ,.,  snap  of  their  jaws, 
discriminating  little  machines  that  handle  screws 
one  hundredth  of  an  inch  in  length,  exact  little 
machines  that  measure  the  sixteenth  of  a  hair's- 
breadth.  But  the  one  bit  of  mechanism  that 
may  most  stir  the  thought  is  the  tiny  tin  saw 
that  cuts  the  jewels  of  the  watch. 

Yes,  the  delicate  and  difficult  work  of  shap- 
ing the  garnet  and  agua  marina,  the  ruby  anA 
sapphire,  is  done  by  a  piece  of  A'«— that  soft, 
common  metal.  But  notice  I  Its  edge  is  chained 
^\t\i  diamond  dust. 

Only  the  prince  of  gems  can  cut  those  pre- 
cious stones.  The  diamond  may  not  work  alone. 
Its  power  must  be  made  available  through  some 
cheaper  agent  to  which  it  is  joined.  Probably 
the  tin  holds  the  diamond  dust  all  the  more 
tenaciously  on  account  of  its  own  weakness. 

7 


8  DIAMOND  DUST. 

Why  may  not  some  noble,  discouraged  worker 
learn  from  the  little  tin  saw  how  the  jeweled 
pivots  are  cut,  upon  which  turn  the  wheels  of  suc- 
cess in  the  world's  conquest  for  God? 

We  are  none  of  us  content,  unless  we  believe 
ourselves  useful  to  others;  and  the  broader  our 
usefulness,  the  deeper  and  surer  our  peacfe.  This 
principle  sends  delicate  Christian  women  out  of 
their  snug  homes,  and  sets  them  stumbling  up 
into  wretched  attics,  and  down  into  dismal  cel- 
lars. It  sent  scholarly  Jesuits  across  the  sea  to 
freeze  and  starve  among  the  North  American  In- 
dians. Sometimes  a  rich,  full  life  is  poured  out 
un.stintedly  in  unselfish  service,  and  with  small 
result.  The  note  of  such  a  failure  might  almost 
send  a  throb  of  pain  through  an  angel's  song. 

We  all  want  to  be  useful.  Children  hear  i:i 
a  shell  the  moan  of  the  sea.  If  we  listen  well, 
we  can  hear  in  the  soul's  confidences  with  itself 
a  ceaseless  moan  for  fellowship  with  God  in  his 
grand  schemes  of  benevolence. 

This  universal  bent  indicates  the  divine  inten- 
tion. God  uses  human  agents.  He  would  use 
each  of  us  to  the  limit  of  our  powers,  if  we 
would  meet  the  conditions  of  his  inworking. 

When  we  see  those  who  are  specially  useful, 
we  demand  of  ourselves  to  know  why  we  are  not 
doing  more.     Might  not  we  accomplish  some- 


C. 


raged  worker 

the  jeweled 
'heels  of  suc- 
I? 
is  we  belie  v'ft 

broader  our 
peacfe.  This 
jmen  out  of 
tumbling  up 
•  dismal  cel- 
s  the  sea  to 
Vmerican  In- 
5  poured  out 
with  small 
night  almost 
;rs  song, 
iren  hear  i.\ 

listen  well, 
5  with  itself 

God  in  his 

divine  inten- 
;  would  use 
•wers,  if  we 
working, 
lially  useful, 
'  we  are  not 
pHsh  some- 


DIAMOND  DUST.  9 

thing  if  only  we  could  learn  the  secret  of  suc- 
cessful effort? 

The  earnest  soul  asks  itself,  "Have  I  found 
the  line  of  life  in  which  I  can  do  most  ?"  "Have 
I  strength  for  any  broader  work  than  that  which 
now  occupies- my  time?" 

It  is  plain  that  to  work  successfully  we  must 
find  first,  what  we  can  do  best,  then  satisfy  our- 
selves that  our  weakness  is  not  a  bar  to  success; 
and  learn,  if  we  can,  how  the  little  tin  saw  we 
are  set  to  manage  can  be  cliarged  with  the  dia- 
mond dust  of  divine  power. 

First,  let  us  see  what  God  would  have  done. 
We  set  our  watches  by  the  jeweler's  chronometer 
because  we  want  them  right.  It  tells  us  where 
the  sun  is,  and  only  the  sun  can  give  us  standard 
time.  If  we  would  hai  e  right  notions  of  God's 
work,  the  Sun  of  Divin  ^  Rightness  must  give  us 
our  standard.  We  must  turn  to  the  true  Light 
that  lighteth  every  man  that  cometh  into  the 
worfd. 

We  can  be  thoroughly  useful  only  when  we 
work  the  works  of  God.  And  what  are  they? 
To  the  Word  and  to  the  Testimony.  Froin 
God's  imperishable  Record  alone  we  may  learn 
to  what  service  we  are  to  devote  ourselves.  Let 
us  read  carefully. 

We  find  the  stupendous  miracle  of  creation 


10 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


chronicled  in  a  few  lines,  while  chapter  after 
chapter  is  given  to  warning,  exhortation,  and 
entreaty  that  wandering  souls  may  be  rescued 
from  ultimate  loss  and  death. 

How  simple  is  the  story  of  the  genesis  of 
light,  that  wonderful  effluence  that  makes  possi- 
ble all  growth  and  beauty!     How  marvelous  its 
movements!     It  puts  its  shoulder  beneath  all  liv- 
ing things  and  lifts  them  toward  the  heavens  in 
spite  of  the  tremendous  downward  tug  of  gravi- 
tation.    It  brings  note  of  suns  so  far  away  that 
a  quarter  of  the  life-time  of  the  globe  is  needed 
to  transmit  the  report.    It  pries  into  the  minutest 
organism.     It  shows  us  the  shuttles  of  life  at 
work,  weaving  the  living  tissue;  yet,  marvelous 
as  it  is,  the  story  of  its  birth  is  given  us  in  a 
half-dozen  words,  though  there  is  ample  space  to 
detail  the  penitence  of  a  crucified  thief,  or  the 
gratitude  of  a  pardoned  Magdalen. 

We  can  be  genuinely  useful  only  when  we 
work  in  line  with  the  puipose  of  God.  He  ren- 
ders the  best  service  who  does  most  to  hasten 
the  coming  of  the  kingdom,  be  it  by  the  con- 
quest of  an  empire  or  the  conversion  of  a  child. 
In  seeking  broad  usefulness  many  blunder 
fatally.  They  mistake  Mat  for  achievement,  rep- 
utation for  character,  the  huzzas  of  the  crowd  for 
the  "Well  done"  of  God.     And  they  generally  . 


9f 


HlWi^ 


hapter  after 

rtation,   and 

be  rescued 

genesis  of 
nakes  possi- 
larvelous  its 
leath  all  liv- 

heavens  in 
ag  of  gravi- 
r  away  that 
e  is  needed 
he  minutest 
i  of  life  at 
,  marvelous 
en  us  in  a 
>le  space  to 
jief,  or  the 

y  when  we 
He  ren- 
to  hasten 
y  the  con- 
of  a  child, 
ly  blunder 
ement,  rep- 
i  crowd  for 
r  generally , 


DIAMOND  DUST.  xt 

find  what  they  seek.  "  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto 
you,  they  have  their  reward."  They  climb  up 
where  the  altitude  is  more  lonely,  the  landscape 
more  drear,  and  they  become  only  a  better  mark 
for  the  peltings  of  the  envious.  They  have  a 
few  years  of  pampered  egotism  and  then  an  eter- 
nal .stumbling  upon  the  dark  mountains  of  ban- 
ishment from  God. 

Greatness  usually  comes  to  the  door  a  prince 
in  disguise.  We  keep  the  door  closed  and  wait 
for  the  chariot  and  outriders  that  never  come. 

If  we  try  to  build  for  ourselves  a  pedestal 
that  shall  lift  us  into  consequence,  like  children 
making  cob  palaces,  our  careless  haste  is  con- 
stantly throwing  down  what  we  have  set  up; 
while,  if  we  take  some  simple,  humble  work' 
and  make  of  it  all  we  possibly  can,  God  working 
in  us  and  with  us,  before  we  dream  of  such  a 
thing  it  has  grown  to  a  height  that  lifts  us  into 
consideration. 

In  our  personal  salvation,  we  are  forever 
stumbling  over  the  simplicity  of  God's  methods. 
We  must  have  some  'marvelous  revealment  of 
the  divine  glory,  some  unbearable  ecstasy,  in- 
stead of  the  peace  of  Christ,  the  quiet  faith-that 
believes  his  Word.  Our  diamond  must  blaze- 
forth  a  Koh-i-noor,  a  mountain  of  light,  and  we 
push  it  aside  with  our  foot,  because  it  seems  to 


'm 


la 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


our  dull  eyes  only  a  common  pebble.  So  our 
opportunity  comes  to  us,  not  as  a  glorifying,  but 
as  a  plain,  unwelcome  duty — a  cross. 

The  line  of  life  marked  out  for  us  by  infinite 
wisdom  is,  of  necessity,  the  very  best  possible. 

Our  weakness  is  not  a  bar  to  successful  effort. 
The  statement  of  the  most  logical  and  exact  m- 
spired  writer  is  that  God  hath  chosen  the  weak 
things  of  the  world  to  confound  the  mighty. 
Not  that  he  uses  them  when  he  can   get  no 
others,  or  when  they  are  thrust  in  his  way  and 
he  can  not   push   them   aside;    but  of  all  in- 
struments, they  are  his  choice;  and  the  reason 
follows,  "That  no  flesh  may  glory  in  his  pres- 
ence."    He  does  not  choose  the  weak  because 
the  strength  of  the  strong  is  in  his  way,  for  the 
strongest  are  weak  enough.     These  things  are 
hid  from  the  wise  and  prudent  and  revealed  unto 
babes,  because  the  wise  and  prudent  will  not 
take  the  attitude  so  natural  and  easy  for  the 
babes. 

Tin  is  chosen  instead  of  the  richer  metals  to 
hold  the  diamond  dust  on  account  of  its  very 
poverty. 

God  always  uses  means  utterly  inadequate  to 
the  result  to  be  produced,  that  it  may  be  thor- 
oughly understood  that  the  exceUency  of  the 
power  is  not  of  men,   but  of  himself.     Then 


ble.     So  our 
orifying,  but 

s  by  infinite 
t  possible. 
■essful  effort. 
id  exact  m- 
n  the  weak 
he  mighty. 
:an  get  no 
lis  way  and 
:  of  all  in- 

the  reason 
in  his  pres- 
ak  because 
'ay,  for  the 

things  are 
(healed  unto 
It  will  not 
isy  for  the 

'  metals  to 
of  its  very 

dequate  to 
ly  be  thor- 
icy  of  the 
elf.     Then 


DIAMOND  DUS7\ 

needy  souls  will  know  that  to  him  alone  they 
must  look  as  the  source  of  help  and  stren^h 
and  not  to  the  servants  that  do  L  bidding  ' 

God  s  use  of  inadequate  means  may  be  seen 
in  the  material  world. 

ucing  Dy  a  word  of  power;  he  wraos  th*. 
emb^o  m  an  insignificant  nut.  and  drops   t'uj^: 
the  ground.     A  foot  presses   it   into  the  soU 
The  frost  gnaws  at  its  shell.     Life  touches  the 
germ  and  sets  the  "bioplasts"  at  work      They 
begin  to  weave  an  oak.  and  presently  its  tZ 
leaflets  push  their  way  through  the  ground  and 
up  toward   the   light,     the   nip  of\  lalkin 
ni.ght  destroy  the  little  vegetaWe.  but.  gu"'d  d 
by  the  law  of  the  survival  of  the  fittest  it  climbs 

SsThl-'"'^'^^^'^^^'*''^--^^'^^ 
.-s  .11  f  i  "?""^"'^'  "P"S:ht  column  of  wood 
IS  all  from  the  tiny  embryo. 

When  God  would  send  a  river  forth  on  its 
m.ss.o„  of  power  and  use  and  beauty  he  does 
not  open  one  of  the  earth's  great  artt  a^d 
pour  a  mighty  flood  down  the  mounta  „  'sid" 
A  few  drops  trickle  from  beneath  a  stone  A 
baby's  ^ueh  might  turn  the  runlet  this  Jay  o^ 

a  oIkT  K  .'  '  T^  '"  '''  ^"^'■''  ^"d  dances  over 
a  pebbly  bed.  a  thing  of  beauty  and  of  gladness 


14 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


Joining  hands  with  kindred  rills,  it  grows  in 
power,  gathering  in  its  arms  other  streams,  till 
at  last  it  rolls  in  might  toward  the  ocean,  bear- 
ing on  its  bosom  the  inland  commerce  of  a  people. 

When  a  continent  is  to  be  made,  the  Great 
Architect  does  not  set  the  Titans  hammering  the 
mountains  about  under  the  sea,  that  he  may  lay 
its  base-stones.  He  gives  the  order  to  a  tiny 
polyp  that  lives  but  a  day;  and  presently  the 
coral  reef  is  thrown  across  the  path  of  naviga- 
tion. Then  the  island  lifts  its  head  above  the 
wave,  and  soon  the  continent  becomes  the  home 
of  races  of  living  beings. 

The  ocean  lies  still  and  quiet  in  its  rocky 
bed,  its  deep  heart  unmoved  by  the  tornadoes 
that  thunder  across  its  surface,  tossing  great 
navies  hither  and  thither  like  handfiris  of  feath- 
ers. Yet,  under  the  moonbeam's  kiss,  it  lifts 
tons  and  tons  of  its  waters  from  their  place  and 
throws  them  for  leagues  along  the  shore. 

Gravitation  is  a  law  so  delicate  that  philoso- 
phers fumbled  around  it  for  centuries  without 
being  able  to  find  it;  yet  it  is  so  mighty  that,  by 
it  the  Creator  holds  the  universe  in  balance. 

The  Master  seems  to  have  wrought  by  this 
rule  of  the  use  of  inadequate  means  in  his  re- 
demptive and  reformatory  work.  In  his  mira- 
cles he  used  means  looking  toward  the.  end  de- 


it  grows  in 
streams,  till 
ocean,  bear- 
i  of  a  people. 
le,  the  Great 
mmering  the 
t  he  may  lay 
er  to  a  tiny 
jresently  the 
h  of  naviga- 
id  above  the 
ics  the  home 

in  its  rocky 
le  tornadoes 
ossing  great 
firis  of  feath- 

kiss,  it  lifts 
:ir  place  and 
[lore. 

that  philoso- 
tries  without 
jhty  that,  by 
balance, 
jght  by  this 
is  in  his  re- 
in his  mira- 

the.end  de- 


DIAMOND  DUST.  ,- 

sired,  yet  always  unequal  to  the   result      His 
mightiest  marvels  were  wrought  by  a  word  or  a 
touch     When  the  multitude  followed  him  out  of 
their  homes,  so  eager  to  hear  the  Word  that  they 
los   s.ght  of  their  physical  needs,  he  told  his  dis 
ciples  to  give  them  food.     He  could  have  spoken 
mto  being  a  Himalaya  of  bread;  but  then  the 
great  lesson  of  the  miracle  would  have  been  lost. 
He  took  the  five  loaves  and  the  two  small  fishes, 
and  blessed,  and  brake,  and  set  the  doubters  cater- 
ing  for  the  great  rows  of  hungry  people.     Each 
took  his  pitiful  bit  of  bread,  and  stumbled  toward 
those  whom  he  was  to  serve  with  a  thousand 
keen  eyes  watching  his  movements.     He  broke 
off  each  piece  in  faith,  and  there  was  no  les.sen- 
mg  of  the  supply,  for  the  creative  power  of  him 
who  issued  the  command  was  brought  into  requi- 
sition  by  obedient  trust. 

In  the  work  of  grace,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
always  wrought  by  the  same  rule.  He  com- 
mitted  the  tremendous  work  of  the  world's  con- 
quest  to  a  little  company  of  Galilean  peasants, 
though  he  might  have  chosen  Judean  rabbis. 
Athenian  philosophers,  or  Roman  poets  and 
statesmen,  or  he  might  have  called  to  his  aid 
legions  of  angels.  He  left  his  work  in  the 
hands  of  a  few  fisher  people,  uncouth  in  man-' 
ners,  burry  m  speech,  untrained  in  thought,  with 


; 


lll',l'li||i!,jn-!i|iJI.|iiMwiWi<i 


i6 


DIAMOND  DUSi. 


IS 


little  to  commend  them  to  confidence,  except 
their  sterling  sense  and  their  faith  in  his  power. 
Indeed,  the  entire  scheme  of  salvation  is 
based  upon  a  contradiction  of  common  opinions, 
diametrically  opposed  to  all  that  the  world  believes 
requisite  to  success.  Its  vital  point  is  trust  in 
the  crucified  Nazarene.  No  wonder  that  it  should 
be  foolishness  to  the  philosophic  Greeks  and  a 
stumbling-block  to  the  aristocratic,  hierarchal 
Jews. 

In  all  time  the  great  advance  movements  of 
reform  have  been  by  the  use  of  means  that  had, 
of  necessity,  to  be  supplemented  by  divine  power. 

During  the  dark  ages,  when  a  woman  was  a 
being  to  be  treated  with  silly  adulation  or  con- 
tempt, a  plaything  or  a  drudge,  altogether  unfit 
to  be  trusted  with  a  knowledge  of  books  or  of 
affairs,  even  in  those  murky  days,  a  woman  was 
used  for  the  evangelization  of  nearly  every  coun- 
try in  Europe. 

Helena,  the  mother  of  Constantine  the  Great, 
made  Christianity  the  religion  of  the  Roman 
Empire,  and  so  of  the  civilized  world. 

The  Empress  Olga  brought  Christianity  into 
Russia;  and  her  grandson,  Vladimir  the  Great, 
who  established  it  as  the  religion  of  the  empire, 
was  converted  through  the  agency  of  his  wife, 
Anna  of  Constantinople. 


Bkiifa 


I 


Weiice,  except 
I  in  his  power. 
>f  salvation  is 
»mon  opinions, 
I  world  believes 
>int  is  trust  in 
r  that  it  should 
Greeks  and  a 
tic,    hierarchal 

movements  of 
cans  that  had, 
'  divine  power, 
woman  was  a 
ilation  or  con- 
Itogether  unfit 
f  books  or  of 
a  woman  was 
ly  every  coun- 

ine  the  Great, 
f  the  Roman 
rid, 

iristianity  into 
lir  the  Great, 
>f  the  empire, 
f  of  his  wife, 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


«r 


Hungary  was  brought  to  Christ  through  the 
efforts  of  Sarolta.  a  Christian  princess,  wife  of 
Kmg  Geysa,  and  mother  of  St.  Stephen 

The  Poles  were  converted  under  the  reign  of 
M.c.sbs  I   through  the.influence  of  his  Christian 
w  fe,  Dambrouska.     Olaf  the  Good,  who  became 
tie  apostle  of  Scandinavia,  carrying  the  leav^^ 
of  evangehsm  even  to  Iceland  and  Greenland? 
was  the  convert  of  his  wife,  Gyda.     Our  own 
Jintish  ancestors  ^vere  indebted  for  the  perma- 
nen    est  bushnjent  of  Christianity  amongT^ 
to  the  efforts  of  good  Queen  Bertha. 

In  the  sixteenth  century,  a  few  earnest  Ger- 
mans were  praymg  that  the  emperor  might  be 
aroused  to  stand  for  the  old  spirituality  that  had 

and   the  answer  came  in  the  conversion  of  ^ 
mmer  s  scape-grace  son. 

While  in  the  depths  of  despair  the  mighty 
doctnne  of  justification  by  faith  dawned  upon 
Luther s  dark  soul;  and  that  belief  of  an  ob- 
scure  monk  was  God's  engine  for  laying  as  level 
as  the  waUs  of  Jericho  the  old  bastions^of  pa^a 
power  m  Germany.  ^^ 

Poor,  alone,  persecuted,  he  stood  before  the 
potentates  of  the  empire  at  Worms  with   the 
simple,  sturdy  answer  to  the  command  to  recant-    ^ 
Hter  sUhe  Ich,  Ich  katm  nicht  anders.     So  hUf 


f^ 


m/mmm 


i8 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


mir  Gott.  Anun"  When  he  was  buried  In  the 
Wartburg  out  of  the  reach  of  friend  and  foe, 
he  wrought  the  great  work  of  the  Reformation, 
the  translation  of  the  Bible  into  the  speech  of 
the  people.  In  that  work  he  gave  Germany  her 
language.  Lifting  a  dialect  into  a  speech  by 
translating  into  it  the  Scriptures,  he  made  a  vehi> 
de  of  thought  that  rendered  possible  the  mar- 
velous German  literature  that  has  followed. 
Greater  still,  he  made  permanent  the  Refor- 
mation. Always  and  ever  the  greatest  is  evolved 
from  the  least. 

The  Anglican  revival  of  thd  eighteenth  cen- 
tury was  born  in  an  obscure  rectory,  where  a 
woman  was  holding  her  nineteen  children  to  a 
regimen  as  rigorous  as  that  of  West  Point,  and 
yet  so  gentle  and  tender,  Dr.  Clarke  says,  they 
had  the  reputation  of  being  the  most  loving  fam- 
ily in  the  county  of  Lincoln. 

With  a  verse-making,  wool-gathering  husband 
who  had  not  practical  sense  enough  to  keep  out 
of  jail  for  debt,  she  not  only  looked  well  to  the 
ways  of  her  household,  but  she  helped  her  boys 
with  their  classics,  and  through  the  intricacies  of 
their  religious  experience.  Little  thought  she  as 
the  days  went  on,  crowded  to  the  last  second 
with  infinitesimal  cares,  that  she  was  laying  the 
foundation  of  the  greatest  revival  pf  spiritual 


1 


buried  in  the 
icnd  and  foe, 

Reformation, 
the  speech  of 
-  Germany  her 

a  speech  by 
e  made  a  vehi- 
isible  the  mar- 
has  followed, 
nt  the  Refor- 
itest  is  evolved 

jighteenth  cen- 
ctory,  where  a 
I  children  to  a 
/est  Point,  and 
irkc  says,  they 
ost  loving  fam- 

leripff  husband 

rh  to  keep  out 

well  to  the 

lelped  her  boys 

je  intricacies  of 

[thought  she  as 

last  second 

ras  laying  the 

|al  of  spiritual 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


»9 


godliness  that  these  later  centuries  have  wit- 
nessed. Little  did  even  the  wisest  imagine  that 
in  that  obscure  rectory  a  moral  renovation  was 
being  planned  that  was  to  change  the  life  of 
millions — possibly  even  the  polity  of  all  civilized 
nations — pirn  ig  with  its  darts  of  light  the 
gloom  above  ali  races  the  wide  world  over.  Lay 
preaching  has  been  the  driving-wheel  of  the 
Wesleyan  machinery.  When  God  set  it  spin- 
ning, John  Wesley's  high-church  prejudices  made 
him  unequal  to  the  test.  He  came  home  from 
one  of  his  itinerant  tours,  and.  finding  out  what 
had  been  set  on  foot  in  his  absence,  he  said  to 
his  mother,  with  unusual  asperity,  "£^,  Thomas 
Maxiield  has  turned  preacher!"  "Yes,  and  do 
you  be  careful  how  you  lay  your  hand  on  that 
young  man.  He  is  just  as  certainly  called  of 
God  to  preach  as  you  are."  She  kept  him  from 
throwing  the  band  off*  the  driving-wheel. 

When  God  thrust  Wesley  out  to  preach  upon 
the  moors  and  commons  to  the  masses  that 
could  not  be  gathered  into  the  churches  to  hear 
the  Word,  a  storm  of  persecution  arose  and 
church  doors  were  slammed  in  his  face.  His 
mother  steadied  his  courage,  "Never  mind,  my 
son,  the  work  is  of  God.  Go  on,  and  leave  re- 
sults with  him."  She  stood  by  his  side,  that 
gray-haired  old   mother,  when  he  spoke  upon 


30 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


Kennlngton  Common  to  twenty  thousand  people. 
But  for  that  small  and  often  overlooked  factor, 
the  mother's  faith,  where  would  have  been  the 
great  scheme  of  evangelism? 

The  Sabbath-school  is  unequaled  in  its  power 
for  the  spread  of  the  Gospel  among  the  masses. 
Its  beginning  was  humble  enough.  In  1769 
Hannah  Ball  established  a  Sunday-school  in  Wy- 
combe, England.  Twelve  years  later  another 
young  woman,  who  afterwards  became  the  wife 
of  Samuel  Bradburn,  a  celebrated  lay  preacher, 
suggested  to  Robert  Raikes  the  idea  of  teaching 
the  children  the  Word  of  God,  and  she  walked 
with  him  through  the  streets  of  Gloucester  when 
he  went  to  the  church  with  his  little,  ragged 
company  to  try  the  first  experiment.  The  peo- 
ple hooted  at  the  woman's  whim,  but  "the  hand- 
ful of  corn  upon  the  top  of  the  mountains,  the 
fruit  thereof  shakes  like  Lebanon." 

At  the  beginning  of  this  century  the  Chinese 
Empire  was  closed  against  Christian  truth.  Its 
language,  the  speech  of  n-arly  half  the  people 
of  the  world,  was  without  even  a  touch  of  Chris- 
tian literature.  A  Sunday-school  teacher  in- 
duced a  street  boy  to  come  into  her  class.  She 
gave  him  suitable  clothing  and  he  came  one  Sun- 
day. The  next  he  was  missing.  She  hunted  him 
up,  clothed  him  again,  and  brought  him  again  to 


I 


iisand  people, 
ooked  factor, 
ave  been  the 

1  in  its  power 
■g  the  masses. 
Ii.  In  1769 
ichool  in  Wy- 
later  another 
ame  the  wife 
lay  preacher, 
a  of  teaching 
d  she  walked 
(ucester  when 
little,  ragged 
»t.  The  peo- 
it  "thehand- 
iountains,  the 

r  the  Chinese 
n  truth.  Its 
If  the  people 
luch  of  Chris- 
teacher  in- 
r  class.  She 
ime  one  Sun- 
e  hunted  him 
him  again  to 


DIAMOND  DUST. 

the  school     He  came  only  one  Sabbath  and  disau- 

peared  aga.n      She  persevered  and  the  third  S^. 

3he  succeeded  in  holding  him  in  her  class      A 

nflmg  matter,  to  be  sure,  but  that  boy  wa,  Ro^ 

crt  Morrison,  who  became  the  apostle  to  China 

The  American  Board  of  Commissioners  of  For- 

ful  work,  grew  out  of  the  talk  of  some  colle^re 
boys  s.tt.ng  beside  a  haystack  one  Satu  da! 
afternoon,  where  they  had  taken  refuge  from  I 
shower  They  talked  of  the  heathen  fndof'he 
possibility  of  their  conversion,  and  agreed  to 
-eet  regularly  to  pray  for  the  salvation  of  the 

trAm^ltr.^""^--^^^^^^^^ 
The  Mtthodist  Missionary  Society   „ith  l„ 

Sof^Lr  "*"  ""*-• «-» o„ro'?.ie 

effort  of  a  little  company  of  women  who  banded 

le«h  the  Indians  upon  the  Western  Reserve 

But  trme  would  fall  to  speak  of  A\  the  ereal 
schemes  thai  God  has  Inaugurated  thrlugh^Th. 
smallest  agencies.  I„de«i,  such  a  caWogue 
wouW  cover,  the  greater  part  of  the  divine  Zk 

Of  *:  eCiot  *' -"■"^ '•"*--""— - 

The  Jews  stumbled  to  their  utter  ruin  over 


iiili 


^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 


93 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


the  simple,  unpretentious  coming  of  their  Prince 
Messiah,  the  Desire  of  Nations.  The  reputed 
son  of  a  carpenter,  unheralded,  except  by  the 
signs  that  accompanied  his  birth,  why  should 
they  acknowledge  his  claim  ?  During  his  thirty 
years  of  waiting  he  moved  about  among  them 
simply  a  thoughtful,  young  man,  with  sad,  pa- 
tient eyes,  differing  from  others  only  in  probity, 
which  was  any  thing  but  a  passport  to  distinction, 
saying  strange,  wise  things,  but  never  bringing 
to  pass  any  thing  remarkable. 

He  waited  in  insignificance  and  obscurity 
while  the  great  world — His  world — known  to  him 
in  its  ultimate  atoms,  turned  silently  on  its  axis, 
kissed  by  his  sunbeams,  touched  by  his  frosts, 
enriched  by  the  rains  that  he  sent  upon  the  evil 
and  the  good,  its  people  filling  their  cup  of  con- 
demnation. 

At  last  His  hour  struck,  and  he  stepped  to 
the  front,  putting  his  shoulder  to  the  mighty  work 
of  redemption.  But  even  then  he  was  unknown 
to  Greek  scholarship,  unheard  of  in  that  magnif- 
icent city  of  the  Caesars.  Probabb'  not  a  thinker 
in  those  superb  old  Indian  and  Chinese  empires 
pronouqced  his  name.  He  lived  in  a  remote  Ro- 
man province,  hated  and  persecuted,  and  he  died 
at.  last  a  felon's  death.  But  Richter  says  of  him, 
"  He  who  was  the  holiest  among  the  mighty,  and 


►f  their  Prince 
The  reputed 
ixcept  by  the 
,  why  should 
ring  his  thirty 
among  them 
with  sad,  pa- 
ly in  probity, 
to  distinction, 
ever  bringing 

md  obscurity 
known  to  him 
[y  on  its  axis, 
ay  his  frosts, 
upon  the  evil 
ir  cup  of  con- 

(le  stepped  to 
;  mighty  work 
was  unknown 
I  that  magnif- 

not  a  thinker 
inese  empires 

a  remote  Ro- 
i,  and  he  died 
r  says  of  him, 
e  mighty,  and 


JDIAAtOND  DUST. 


as 


the  mightiest  among  the  holy  has,  with  his 
pierced  hand,  lifted  heathenism  off  its  hinges,  and 
turned  the  dolorous  and  accursed  centuries  into 
new  channels,  and  now  governs  the  ages." 

Since  it  appears  plainly  that  our  weakness  is 
no  bar  to  successful  work  for  God,  how  shall  we 
get  about  it  to  have  our  weak  human  nature 
charged  with  the  diamond  dust  of  divine  power? 
1.  We  must  understand  our  own  weakness. 
This  is  the  Sebastopol  of  the  campaign,  the  key 
to  the  position. 

The  Master  said,  "Without  me  ye  can  do 
nothing."  He  understood  our  puerile  attempts 
at  bolstering  our  own  dignity.  He  knew  how 
hard  we  would  try  to  make  ourselves  and  others 
believe  that  we  were  equal  to  the  work  in 
hand.  He  meant  we  should  begin  with  a  sense 
of  utter  inefficiency.  Frederic  the  Great,  with 
a  little  of  the  insight  of  genius,  said  that  the 
three  hardest  words  to  pronounce  are,  "  I  was 
mistaken." 

We  may  be  too  polite  to  trumpet  our  own 
doings.  We  may  have  more  sense  than  Long- 
fellow's lago. 

"  Very  bonstful  wns  lago. 
Never  heard  he  an  adventur«, 
But  himself  had  met  a  greater ; 
Never  any  deed  of  daring, 
But  himself  had  done  a  bolder ; 


«4  DIAMOND  DUST. 

Never  any  marvelous  story, 

But  himself  could  tell  a  stranger." 

Yet  if  we  watch  ourselves  we  will  find  that 
always,  if  we  can,  we  turn  the  conver^tion  away 
from  those  topics  upon  which  we  appear  to  dis- 
advantage, and  toward  those  that  show  off"  our 
achievements.  It  comes  so  easy  to  say,  "When 
I  was  in  the  university,"  or,  "When  we  were 
abroad,"  or,  "When  their  High  Mightinesses, 
So  and  So,  were  at  our  house." 

While  we  are  filled  with  a  sense  of  our  own 
importance,  we  can  not  be  partakers  of  the  di- 
vine nature  so  as  to  be  full  of  power  by  the 
Spirit  of  the  Lord. 

We  must  not  only  be  converted,  we  must  be- 
come as  little  children. 

There  is  an  inborn  spirit  of  independence 
that  must  be  gotten  rid  of  as  soon  as  possible. 

When  Thales  was  asked  what  is  the  most 
difficult  thing  in  the  universe,  he  replied,  "To 
know  thyself."  So  tricky  are  we,  we  hide  our 
real  motives  even  from  our  closest  self-scrutiny. 
We  practice  hypocrisy  upon  ourselves  even  when 
we  are  airing  our  sincerity  and  ingenuousness. 

We  intone  our  confession  of  unworthiness 
with  proper  inflections  and  cadences.  We  are 
poor,  miserable  sinners,  but  not  unfrequently  our 
drawl  of  humility  covers  self-assertion  as  a  wet 


irill  find  that 
raation  away 
ppear  to  dis- 
ihow  off  our 
tay,  "When 
len  we  were 
lightinesses, 

I  of  our  own 
rs  of  the  di- 
ower  by  the 

we  must  be-. 

ndependence 
Eis  possible, 
is  the  most 
eplied,  ' '  To 
we  hide  our 
self-scrutiny. 
!S  even  when 
3;enuousness. 
iinworthiness 
s.  We  are 
equently  our 
on  as  a  wet 


DIAMOND  DUST. 

cloth  covers  a  dead  man's  face,  making  it  all  the 
more  ghastly  to  them  who  have  eyes. 

If  somebody  agrees  with  us  in  our  declara- 
tions of  incompetency,  we  catch  ourselves  sud- 
denly straightening  our  vertebral  column,  and  as- 
serting stiffly  that  we  are  probably  quite  as  wise 
and  good  as  the  majority  of  our  neighbors.  Much 
of  the  discipline  of  life  is  meant  to  make  us  see 
this  defect  of  character. 

How  plainly  we  see  the  independence  of  the 
little  fellow  toddling  off  on  his  two  uncertain  feet. 
If  he  can  push  open  the  gate  he  starts  out  wildly 
toward  any  point  of  the  compass  in  the  big  out- 
side world,  and  how  resolutely  he  resists  witli 
kicks  and  screams  eve-^'  attempt  to  force  him 
back  within  safe  and  proper  limits. 

If  a  mother  leaves  her  little  girl  in  charge  of 
the  house  she  is  sure  to  find  that  the  child  foi^ot 
to  feed  the  chickens  and  keep  the  pigs  out  of 
the  garden,  in  her  disastrous  attempts  to  show 
that  she  can  make  pies  and  clean  house  all  by 
herself. 

Older  people  dislike  to  be  told  to  do  what 
they  think  tljey  understand  as  well  as  any  body. 

"You  had  better  take  your  shawl,  Mary;  it 
will  be  cool  coming  home. " 

"  No,  mother,  I  sha' n't  need  it." 

When  we  were  upon  the  sidewalk,  the  young 


I.' I 


96 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


lady,  who  was  more  thoughtful  in  her  introspec- 
tion than  most  people,  asked  this  question, 
"Why  do  you  suppose  I  told  mother  I  didn't 
need  my  shawl,  when  I  meant  to  take  it  all  the 
time,  and  should  have  done  so  if  she  hadn't 
spoken  about  it— just  as  though  I  did  n't  know 
enough  to  take  care  of  my  health  ?" 

You  are  in  a  street-car  that  gets  into  some 
sort  of  trouble.  "Don't  be  frightened,"  says 
a  superior  individual  with  that  soothing  cadence 
that  is  specially  provoking.  "Just  sit  istill, 
there's  no  danger. "  You  are  on  your  feet  in  a 
moment.  You  are  no  baby.  You  probably 
know  as  well  as  he  how  to  behave,  danger  or  no 
danger. 

This  personal  hauteur  is  probably  a  remnant  of 
the  original  human  kingliness.  But  whatever  it 
is,  it  is  sadly  in  the  way  of  good  work,  for  be- 
fore honor  is  humility. 

Before  we  can  be  properly  equipped  for  the 
divine  service,  we  must  know  thoroughly  that 
we  are  utterly  helpless  for  good,  except  as  God 
becomes  the  strength  of  our  strengthlessness. 

Only  God  has  power  to  help  souls  to  a  better 
life.  He  is  jealous  for  the  divine  prerogative, 
not  for  his  own  sake,  but  for  ours. 

A  jeweler  will  riot  let  his  little  boy  tamper 
with  a  watch,  no  matter  how  dear  the  child  may 


BE| 


;r  introspec- 
s  question, 
ler  I  did  n't 
:e  it  all  the 
she  hadn't 
lid  n't  know 

i  into  some 
ened,"  says 
ing  cadence 
St  sit  istill, 
)ur  feet  in  a 
u  probably 
anger  or  no 

remnant  of 
whatever  it 
ork,  for  he- 
lped for  the 
oughly  that 
:ept  as  God 
ilessness. 
i  to  a  better 
prerogative, 

boy  tamper 
e  child  may 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


97 


be  to  his  heart.  Not  because  he  is  afraid  that 
his  son  may  become  a  rival  in  business,  but 
because  he  is  afraid  the  little  fellow  will  ruin 
the  watch,  if  allowed  to  get  at  its  wheels  and 
ratchets. 

We  know  so  little  of  the  human  spirit  we 
can  never  be  sure  of  saying  or  doing  the  right 
thing  for  its  helping,  except  as  our  Father  holds 
our  hand,  and  speaks  through  our  lips. 

There  is  an  aloneness  of  grandeur  about  this 
awful  human  soul.  It  may  be  trampled  in  mire 
like  a  lost  diamond ;  it  may  be  built  into  coarse, 
common  wall  like  the  brokcii,  scattered  Greek 
marbles,  but  an  archangel  would  stand  back 
abashed  from  the  audacity  of  laying  unbidden  so 
much  as  the  weight  of  a  finger  upon  the  delicate, 
immense  mechanism. 

Shall  we  be  so  foolhardy  as  to  attempt  any 
reformatory  work,  except  simply  and  only  as  in- 
struments in  the  divine  hand  ? 

When  we  get  out  of  the  swaddling  bands 
of  our  selfhood,  we  are  brought  face  to  face 
with  the  ultimate  facts  of  being,  and  charac- 
ter, and  destiny,  the  dignity  of  the  soul  and  its 
final  future,  and  we  become  indifferent  to  our 
own  apparent  success  or  failure,  so  that  the^ 
work  in  which  we  are  permitted  a  part  moves 
fonvard. 


a8 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


2.  We  must  have  a  sense  of  Gods  adequacy  to 
the  work  in  hand. 

"For  right  is  right,  since  God  is  God, 
And  right  the  day  must  win,    ^ 
To  doubt  would  be  disloyalty, 
To  falter  would  be  sin.*' 

In  the  Sacred  Record  we  find  that  those  who 
asked  and  received  great  things  of  God  usually 
prefaced  their  prayer  with  a  statement  of  the  di- 
vine greatness.  That,  as  I  understand  it,  was  not 
that  they  might  propitiate  the  Deity  by  an  as- 
cription of  praise,  for  the  best  human  attempts 
to  tell  him  who  and  what  he  is  must  be  to  his 
ear  mere  limping,  childish  chirping.  They  said 
these  things  that  their  own  minds  might  be  sat- 
urated with  the  thought  of  his  power,  and  the 
ease  with  which  he  could  deliver  them  from 
troubles  that  seemed  so  great. 

Thus,  when  Hezekiah  was  in  mortal  terror 
before  the  coming  of  Sennacherib's  host,  he 
prayed  before  the  Lord,  and  said:  "O  Lord  of 
hosts,  vGod  of  Israel,  which  dwellest  between  the 
cherubim,  thou  art  the  God,  even  thou  alone,  of 
all  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth.  Thou  hast  made 
heaven  and  earth." 

After  the  ascension  of  the  Lord,  when  the 
little  company  of  disciples  found  themselves  pre- 
cipitated by  their  faith  into  a  most  unequal  con- 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


«9 


fs  adequacy  to 


I  God, 


liat  those  who 
f  God  usually 
lent  of  the  di- 
nd  it,  was  not 
:ity  by  an  as- 
nan  attempts 
lUst  be  to  his 
f.  They  said 
might  be  sat- 
)wer,  and  the 
r  them  from 

mortal  terror 
ib's  host,  he 
"O  Lord  of 
t  between  the 
hou  alone,  of 
ou  hast  made 

rd,  when  the 

lem  selves  pre- 

unequal  con- 


test with  the  authorities,  they  cried  to  God  for 
help.  With  the  fires  of  martyrdom  beginning  to 
scorch  their  faces,  they  felt  intensely  the  need  of 
a  strong  refuge;  so  they  began  their  prayer  by 
saying:  "Lord,  thou  art  God,  which  hast  made 
heaven  and  earth  and  the  sea  and  all  that  in 
them  is,"  and  immediately  their  faith  touched 
the  Divine  Hand  in  the  darkness,  and  the  place 
where  they  were  was  shaken  by  his  presence. 

3.  We  must  commit  ourselves  to  the  Divine 
guidance. 

There  fe  such  a  tangle  of  paths  before  us, 
only  one  of  which  can  be  right,  we  are  often 
bewildered  to  know  what  course  to  take.  No 
human  plummet  can  sound  the  abyss  of  diffi- 
culty.   No  human  strength  can  bridge  the  chasm. 

Like  Solomon,  when  he  stood  in  the  presence 
of  the  tremendous  responsibilities  of  life,  we  say: 
"I  am  a  little  child,  I  know  not  how  to  go  out 
or  to  come  in."  Our  Heavenly  Father  sees  the 
end  from  the  beginning,  and  we  hav6  his  prom- 
ise, "In  all  thy  ways  acknowledge  him,  and  be 
shall  direct  thy  paths."  He  will  lead  us,  prob- 
ably not  to  that  that  will  bring  money  or  lux- 
ury, eclat  or  self-indulgence.  If  those  accidents 
of  life  are  in  the  way  of  a  broad  usefulness,  we 
renounce  them  all,  and  he  will  save  us  from  their' 
allurements. 


30 


DIAMaNO  DVST. 


l\ 


John  Wesley,  the  retiring,  poetic,  studious 
Oxonian,  was  led  away  from  the  quiet,  scholarly 
life  he  would  have  chosen,  to  one  packed  with 
public  cares  and  burdens  and  self-denials.  For 
twenty  long  years  he  endured  that  miserable 
thorn  in  the  flesh,  a  jealous,  unprincipled  wife. 
For  half  a  century  his  Church  bore  down  upon 
him  with  her  broadsides  of  persecution,  his 
brethren  in  holy  orders  usually  leading  the  at- 
tack. When  his  followers  had  become  so  numer- 
ous that  he  had  to  be  treated  with  a  little  leni- 
ency, he  was  afraid  something  had  gone  wrong 
with  him,  because  he  missed  the  mobs. 

The  Apostle  Paul  was  also  of  that  fine,  gen- 
tle, scholastic  cast  of  mind  that  shuns  notoriety 
and  enjoys  so  intensely  cloistered  leisure  with 
book.s.  He  was  led  of  God  in  journeyings  often, 
in  perils  of  waters,  in  perils  of  robbers,  in  perils 
by  his  own  countrymen,  in  perils. by  the  heathen, 
in  perils  in  the  city,  in  perils  in  the  wilderness, 
in  perils  in  the  sea,  in  perils  among  false  breth- 
ren, in  weariness  and  painfulness,  in  watchings 
often,  and,  at  last,  he  went  to  his  throne  from 
beneath  the  headsman's  sword. 

The  Lord  Christ  was  a  man  of  sorrows  and 
acquainted  with  grief.  He  did  not  of  himself 
choose  the  suffering,  for  he  cried  out  during  that 
supreme  hour  of  anguish  in  Gethsemane,  "If  it 


f 


etic,  studious 
liet,  scholarly 

packed  with 
denials.  For 
hat  miserable 
incipled  wife, 
e  down  upon 
rsecution,  his 
ading  the  at- 
tme  so  numer- 
\i  a  little  leni- 
i  gone  wrong 
lobs. 

that  fine,  gen- 
luns  notoriety 
1  leisure  with 
neyings  often, 
hers,  in  perils 
/  the  heathen, 
he  wilderness, 
ig  false  breth- 

in  watchings 
s  throne  from 

f  sorrows  and 
ot  of  himself 
ut  during  that 
lemane,  "If  it 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


3« 


be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me;  never- 
theless, not  my  will  but  thine  be  done." 

We  can  not  pierce  the  awful  mystery  of  that 
redemptive  agony.  He  staggered  through  its 
surges  of  anguish,  grappling  with  and  mastering 
the  powers  of  evil.  He  was  heard  in  that  he 
feared,  and  his  dying  cry,  "It  is  finished,"  was  a 
victor's  sJiout.  The  cross  was  his  throne  of  tri- 
umph and  it  is  our  symbol  of  victory. 

We  must  drop  into  the  little  niche  in  the  divine 
plan  for  which  we  were  designed.  We  can  work 
to  advantage  only  when  we  move  in  harmony 
with  the  Unerring  Will. 

4.  We  must  \\scvQ  faith  for  results. 

God  means  at  the  eariiest  possible  hour  to 
set  this  wrong  old  worid  right.  If  we  are  in  his 
hand,  under  his  control,  there  is  no  possible 
chance  for  us  to  fail. 

•'  111  with  his  blessing  is  most  good, 
And  unblest  good  is  ill ; 
And  «U  is  right  that  seems  most  wrong. 
If  it  is  bis  dear  will." 

They  of  whom  the  worid  was  not  worthy, 
who  subdued  kingdoms,  wrought  righteousness,' 
obtained  promises,  stopped  the  mouths  of  lions, 
quenched  the  violence  of  fire,  escaped  the  edge 
of  the  sword,  out  of  weakness  were  made  strong, 
waxed  valiant  in  fight,  and  turned  to  flight  the 


3« 


wmmim 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


armies  of  the  aliens,  wrought  all  their  marvels  by 
faith.  But  how  can  we  attain  "like  precious 
faith?" 

The  Savior  askfd,  "How  can  ye  believe 
which  receive  honor  one  of  another,  and  seek 
not  the  honor  that  cometh  from  God  only." 

One  of  the  first  conditions  upon  which  we 
may  hope  for  the  enlarged  faith  that  is  so  impor- 
tant a  factor  in  successful  work  for  God  is  the 
renunciation  of  our  desire  for  the  approbation  of 
oti»ers.  That,  however,  is  but  one  point  of  the 
complete  self-surrender  that  is  necessary.  There 
must  be  a  choice  of  the  will  of  God  in  all  things 
for  all  time.  This  must  be  as  complete  as  we 
know  how  to  make.  Every  suggestion  of  pos- 
sible service  or  suffering  must  be  met  with, 
"Yes,  if  it  be  his  will,  I  will  do  it.  I  can  trust 
him  to  keep  me  out  of  fanaticism  and  unneces- 
sary self-mortification.  I  simply  put  the  conduct 
of  my  life  into  his  hands." 

We  must  understand  that  the  immanent  God 
has  a  will  in  every  item  of  our  life,  and  the  only 
safe  and  wise  thing  is  for  us  to  choose  that  will, 
no  matter  how  our  inclination  may  writhe  and 
struggle  and  cry  out  in  pain. 

Once  when  Marshal  Ney  was  going  into  bat- 
tle he  noticed  that  his  knees  were  smiting  to- 
gether from  fear.     Looking  down  at  them,  he 


mam-m 


i 


\f  marvels  by 
ike  precious 

I  ye  believe 
er,  and  seek 
d  only." 
)n  which  we 
:  is  so  impor- 
r  God  is  the 
•probation  of 

point  of  the 
sary.     There 

in  all  things 
nplete  as  we 
stion  of  pos- 
e  met  with, 
I  can  trust 
and  unneces- 
t  the  conduct 

imancnt  God 
and  the  only 
ose  that  will, 
y  writhe  and 

oing  into  bat- 

e  smiting  to- 

at  them,  he 


DIAAtOND  DUST.  3, 

said:  "You  may  well  shake.  You  'd  shake  worse 
yet  if  you  knew  where  I  am  going  to  take  you!" 
That  was  Ney  holding  Ney  in  the  line  of  duty, 
ill  spite  of  terror  that  curdled  the  blood,  and  it 
was  by  that  resolute  choice  of  right  action  that 
he  earned  the  title  of  the  "bravest  of  the  brave." 
But  how  may  we  know  that  we  are  not  cheat- 
ing ourselves,  that  we  do  in  all  things  choose 
the  will  of  God,  that  our  surrender  to  him  is 
complete  ? 

We  know  whether  or  not  we  are  honest  in 
our  purpose  to  do  this;  and  when  we  are  re- 
minded of  the  depth  and  deceitfulness  of  the 
human  heart,  we  may  reply,  "I  know  that  the 
Holy  Spirit,  to  whom  I  am  indebted  even  for  my 
desire  to  be  wholly  under  his  control,  and  who 
knows  my  motives  to  their  last  shade  of  mean- 
ing,— is  able,  and  cares  to  show  me,  if  I  fail  of 
a  complete  surrender.  I  am  so  sure  of  this,  I 
venture  to  say  to  my  friends,  to  every  body,  if 
need  be,  I  know  through  my  confidence  in  his 
helping  power  that  I  am  wholly  given  to  God." 

After  that  it  is  easy  to  believe  that  he  has 
you  in  his  hand,  and  he  works  in  you  to  will  and 
to  do  of  his  good  pleasure  the  condition  neces- 
sarily antecedent  to  your  greatest  usefulness. 

You  may  assert  by  faith  in  the  blood  of  the  ' 
everlasting  covenant  that  he  saves  from  the  old 

3 


34 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


egotism  and  fits  the  soul  for  the  best  work  for 
himself. 

The  soul  "enters  into  rest,"  profound,  sweet, 
holy.  There  is  no  further  care  about  the  choice 
of  work.  God,  to  whom  the  life  is  committed, 
will  lead  by  his  spirit  so  that  all  things  shall 
work  together  for  good.  The  responsibility  of 
result  is  all  with  God.  There  is  nothing  to  do 
but  to  go  on  gladly,  trustfully,  doing  to  the  best 
of  the  ability  what  he  would  have  done,  leaving 
the  outcome  with  him. 

The  suffrage  of  the  world  and  the  "Well 
done"  of  God  are  given  finally  to  those  who 
work  by  this  rule  of  submission  and  trust. 

••Count  m«  o'er  ewtli'i  chosen  heroes;  they  were  souls  th«t 

stood  alone, 
While  the  men  they  agonized  for  hurled  the  contumelioue 

stone, 
Stood  serene,  »nd  down  the  future  saw  the  golden  beam  incline 
To  the  bide  of  perfect  justice  mastered  by  their  faith  divi-"- 
By  one  man's  plain  truth  to  manhood  and  to  God's  .u^    mo 

design, 

By  the  light  of  burning  heretics  Christ's  bleeding  feot  I  track, 
Toiling  up  new  Calvaries  ever  with  tlie  cross  th;    turns  not 

back. 
And  these  mounts  of  anguish  number  how  eat      generation 

learned    - 
One  new  wor.l  of  that  grand  eredo  which  in  prophet-heart* 

hath  burned, 
Since  the  first  man  stood  Gotl-conquered   with  his  face  to 

lieaven  upturned. 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


as 


best  work  for 

ofound,  sweet, 
out  the  choice 
is  committed, 
11  things  shall 
sponsibility  of 
nothing  to  do 
ng  to  the  best 
:  done,  leaving 

nd  the  "Well 
to  those  who 
nd  trust. 

ey  were  souls  that 

1  the  contumellom 

[olden  beam  incline 
heir  faith  divin*". 
I  to  God'K  sup.  me 

ceding  fet-t  I  track, 
cross  thn<  turns  not 

>w  e&c     generation 

I  in  prophet-hearts 

1   with  his  face  to 


For  humanity  .weep,  onward !  where  (o-day  the  martyr  stands. 
On  the  morrow  crouches  Judas,  with  the  silver  in  l>is  hands. 
Far  in  front  the  cross  stands  ready  and  the  crackling  fairols 
burn,  •      • 

While  the  hooting  mob  of  yester.lay  in  silent  awe  return 
I u  glean  up  the  scattered  ashes  for  history's  golden  urn." 

A  picture  of  Florence  Nightingale  represents 
her  by  the  bedside  of  a  dying  soldier  in  a  Cri- 
mean hospital.  In  tiie  background  a  poor, 
homesick  fellow  has  raised  himself  in  his  cot  and 
is  passing  his  hand  caressingly,  reverently  over 
her  shadow  on  the  opposite  wall— rendering  un- 
conscious homage  to  her  boundless  self-giving. 

A  friend  wrote  her  once,  asking  for  some  facts 
of  her  life  for  publication.  Her  reply  was  about 
this:  "There  is  nothing  worth  writing  about  me. 
I  have  done  nothing,  God  has  done  all.  He 
haa  been  pleased  to  take  a  very  plain,  ordinary 
woman  and  use  her  in  his  service.  I  have  worked 
hard,  very  hard,  and  I  have  never  denied  God 
any  thing." 

Of  another  of  the  mighty  ones  whose  weak  life 
was  so  charged  with  the  diamond  dust  of  divine 
power  that  it  cut  through  adamantine  mountains 
of  difficulty,  the  record  is,  "Abraham  believed 
God,  and  he  counted  It  to  him  for  righteousness." 
Stanley  says:  "Powerful  as  is  the  effect  of  these 
words  when  we  read  tl.\em  in  their  first  untar-  ' 
nished  freshness,  they  giiin  immensely  in  their 


riii 


BM***"       -.""^^Wii 


Hii 


aanmiii 


IM 


IHKtt 


DIAMOND  DUST. 

'original  language,  to  «hlch  neid.er  Greek  jr 
Gefman,  much  les»  Latin  or  Engl.sh,  «.n  farm* 
any  full  equivalent.  •  He  was  supported,  he  was 
built  UP  he  reposed  as  a  child  in  .ts  mother  s 
'rms'  [sich  seems  the  force  of  the  Hebrew  word] 

'"'lU'r^l'pH^nege  of  ever,  believer  in 

-frr^r:-.?:rdrir:fi 
7t^  p--' --^:  TJ^rzi::. 

help  that  comes  only  Irom  compi 
and  restful  trust. 


md 


Greek  nor 

can  furnish 

rted,  he  was 

its  mother's 

ebrew  word] 

y  believer  in 
:apons  of  our 
en  by  divine 
d  to  the  pull- 
ave  the  sense 
f  omnipotent 
;te  obedience 


THINKING. 


JMJftKgiK^. 


37 


T^HE  demand  of  the  time  is  for  trained  think- 
■*-    ing.     The  great  need  of  God's  work  is  con- 
secrated tho"ght. 

We  desire  to  be  broadly  useful.  We  attempt 
many  things  in  which  we  fail.  Our  failures  throw 
us  into  the  deepest  humiliation  and  despondency. 
We  have  seasons  of  resolving  to  be  intensely  vig- 
ilant and  active,  followed  by  corresponding  lapses 
into  unprofitableness.  We  never  are,  but  always 
are  to  be,  of  some  use  in  the  world.  Unless 
something  changes  the  current  and  character  of 
our  effort,  the  chances  are  that  old  age  or  death 
will  find  us  like  some  convocations  of  well  mean- 
ing people,  resolving  and  resolving,  "only  that 
and  nothing  more." 

Perhaps  the  clew  that  will  lead  us  out  of  this 
labyrinth  of  failures  may  be  found  to  be  a  habit 
of  direct,  sure  thought  under  God's  guidance. 

An  item  of  advice  given  by  the  London  ad- 
miralty to  its  seamen  in  regard  to  the  m^inage- 
ment  of  a  ship  in  a  hurricane  beguis  with  this 
sentence;  "Stand  erect  and  look  in  the  wind's 
eye."     It  may  be  well  for  us  to  stand  erect  and 


38 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


m 


look  in  the  eye  the  difficulties  that  hold  us  from 
our  best  possible  achievement.  If  we  find  the 
trouble  to  lie  in  our  slipshod,  zigzag  methods  ot 
thought,  let  us  do  our  best  to  amend. 

In  earnest  glance  at  the  world's  affairs  w.ll 
convince  us  that  thinking  pays.     It  increases  the 
mental  volume.    The  more  we  do  in  any  hne, 
the  more  we  can  do.     It  is  the  arm  that^vorks 
that  has  muscle  and  vigor.     It  is  the  bram  that 
thinks  that  has  power  to  think  to  good  purpose. 
Thinking  has  a  market  value.    Deft  fingers  are 
worth  far  more  in  a  business  than  clumsy  ones 
are;  and  even  in  what  seems  simply  to  depend 
on  physical  skill,  success  hinges  upon  the  quick- 
ness  and  sureness  of  the  thought.     There  is  no 
appreciable  difference  in  the  quality  of  the  mus- 
cie,  or  blood,  or  nerve  in  the  cunning  or  the 
awkward  hand.      The  difference  is  m  the  mind 
that  directs  the  movements  of  each.     Success  in 
any  avocation  is  not  usually  a  matter  of  special 
endowment,  but  of  disciplined  thought. 

What  makes  the  difference  in  the  wages  of 
those  who  go  out  to  service?  You  have  a  serv- 
ant whom  you  have  to  tell  but  once  how  you 
want  a  thing  done.  She  understands  and  re- 
members. Her  work  is  worth  a  dollar  a  week 
more  than  that  of  another  who  brings  to  you  as 
pleasant  ways,  larger  experience,  and  more  mus- 


THINKING. 


39 


old  us  from 
we  iiiid  the 
methods  of 

s  affairs  will 
increases  the 
in  any  line, 
[I  that  works 
le  brain  that 
ood  purpose. 
;ft  fingers  are 
clumsy  ones 
ily  to  depend 
on  the  quick- 
There  is  no 
\f  of  the  mus- 
nning  or  the 
I  in  the  mind 
I.     Success  in 
tter  of  special 
jght. 

the  wages  of 
tt  have  a  serv- 
jnce  how  you 
tands  and  re- 
dollar  a  week 
•ings  to  you  as 
and  more  mus- 


cle, but  who  is  forever  forgetting  or  neglecting 
some  important  item  of  home  comfort.  You  can 
well  afford  to  pay  the  thoughtful  housekeeper 
all  she  chooses  to  ask  for  her  services.  Her 
planning,  "executive  force,"  as  we  sometimes 
call  it,  adds  at  least  one-half  to  her  availability. 
Her  thoughtfulness  is  of  no  small  value  to  you, 
if  it  leaves  you  free  to  use  your  thought  upon 
other  and  possibly  more  important  matters, 
though  it  is  not  easy  to  believe  that  any  business 
can  be  more  important  than  that  the  home  be 
kept  as  it  ought  to  be.  Many  a  failure  is  due  to 
the  ill -temper  and  the  nervous  unhingement 
caused  by  a  smoky  breakfast-room,  burnt  steak, 
or  cold  cakes. 

In  mechanical  operations  the  question  of 
financial  success  hinges  upon  the  formula,  the 
more  thought,  the  better  pay.  If  one  thinks 
nimbly  and  strongly  enough  to  keep  the  muscles 
of  two  others  at  work,  he  becomes  three  men. 
If  a  hundred,  he  multiplies  his  producing  force 
a  hundred  times ;  and  in  just,  so  far  as  he  can 
think  out  the  work  of  others  better  than  they 
can  do  it  for  themselves,  he  is  entitled  to  profit 
on  their  work.  That  is  the  way  in  which  honest 
men  get  rich.  If  one  can  plan  so  that  the 
strength  of  another  is  worth  as  mudi  again  as  if 
would  be  without  his  thought,  he  is  entitled  to 


•■ 


40 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


a  share  of  the  extra  gains.  That  is  fair.  The 
thought  field  is  open  to  all.  If  one  wants  the 
better  paying  position,  let  him  learn  also  to  think 
rapidly  and  reliably. 

It  is  hard  work  to  learn  thinking,  but  it  ren- 
ders the  best  returns  to  all  classes  of  workers, 
from  the  bootblack  trying  to  establish  his  re- 
spectability by  presenting  a  clenn  face  in  the  Mis- 
sion school,  up  to  Bismarck  and  Disraeli  playing 
their  cosmopolitan  game,  with  kings  and  em- 
perors for  chessmen. 

Great  achievements  are  not  accidental.  They 
are  the  result  of  tireless  thought. 
.  It  was  not  the  genius  of  a  demi-god  that  so 
nearly  laid  Europe  at  the  feet  of  the  great  Na- 
poleon. It  was  the  ccwjeless  energy  of  a  hercu- 
lean thinker.  While  other  men  slept,  he  would 
sit  by  the  hour  bending  over  his  maps,  and 
planning  his  campaigns.  With  colored  pins  he 
represented  the  forces  in  the  contest.  Tlie  green 
pins  were  Russians,  the  blue  pins  Prussians,  tlie 
red  pins  the  British,  and  the  white  pins  his  own 
soldiers.  If  the  allied  armies  were  to  inove  upon 
a  certain  point,  he  would  bring  up  his  niien  by 
forced  marches  to  its  relief.  If  they  crossed  the 
river  here,  he  would  fall  back  so  and  so.  Thus 
through  the  livelong  night  in  that  great,  tough 
brain,  armies  were  marching  and  counter-m^rch- 


HMi 


IKH 


THINKING. 


4» 


s  fair.  The 
lie  wants  the 
also  to  think 

y,  but  it  ren- 
of  workers, 
blish  his  re- 
e  in  the  Mis- 
raeli  playing 
igs  and   em- 

ental.     They 

i-god  that  so 
he  great  Na- 
>r  of  a  hercu- 
pt,  he  would 
s  maps,  and 
ored  pins  he 
.  Tlie  green 
'russians,  tlie 
pins  his  own 
o  move  upon 

his  ihen  by 
y  crossed  the 
id  so.     Thus 

great,  tough 
junter-march- 


ing.  and  those  plans  were  wrought  out  that 
astonished  the  woild  with  the  brilliancy  of  their 
success. 

It  holds  true  of  every  enterprise,  whether  it 
b'  for  Satan,  or  self,  or  God;  its  success,  other 
th.ngs  being  equal,  depends  upon  the  amount  of 
clear,  definite,  contimmts  tlumght  that  is  given  to 
its  planning  and  execution.  If  one  would  work 
well,  he  must  learn  to  think  well. 

Few  people  study  thei'r  mental  movements 
carefully  enough  to  understand  their  lack  of 
ability  for  sustained  thought. 

One  may  test  himself  by  watching  his  at 
tempts  at  listening  to  a  lecture.     He  seats  him- 
self with  a  determination  to  give  his  v^ry  best 
attention  to  the  subject  in  hand.     After  two  or 
three  minutes  some  word  of  the  speaker  rsminds 
him  of  a  teacher  of  his,  and  in  a  twinkling  he  is 
in  the  eld  New  England  school-house,  with  the 
boys  buzzing  and  shuffling  and  playing  sly  tricks. 
John  Smith  used  to  sit  by  him.    Poor  John !     He 
was  killed  in  that  Ashtabulf    .isaster.    Whatater- 
ble  thing  that  was,  to  be  sure.     He  would  have 
been  in  it  if  he  hadn't  lain  over  in  Rochester. 
That  trip  to  San  Francisco  was  lucky  all  the  way 
through.     What  a  .set  those  Chinese  are  that 
saw  there.     How  queer  it  would  seem  to  be  in 
China  where  all  the  people  look  like  those  odd 


4a 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


specimens.  He  is  called  home  from  the  Celestial 
Empire,  not  by  the  subject  under  discussion,  but 
by  a  bustling  step  at  his  side — Doctor  Dosem! 
Wonder  if  he  is  as  busy  as  he  tries  to  make  out ! 
He  has  lost  a  good  slice  of  the  lecture  by  com- 
ing so  late.  The  lecture !  Shades  of  the  Greeks ! 
If  that  lecturer  has  not  reached  his  thirdly,  and 
not  a  word  of  secondly  has  caught  the  erratic 
attention  of  this  average  listener! 

Let  him  test  himself  in  another  way.  Let 
him  resolve  to  think  steadily  for  ten  minutes 
upon  any  given  subject,  whether  it  be  the  care 
of  his  health,  the  salvation  of  his  soul,  or  any 
other  vital  matter.  He  will  find  his  thought 
wandering  like  the  eyes  of  a  fool  to  the  ends  of 
the  earth.  If  so  much  as  a  fly  buzzes  near,  it 
will  snap  the  gossamer  thread  of  his  thought  and 
set  it  flying  a  thousand  leagues  from  the  subject 
in  hand. 

How  can  we  leant  to  think  continuously  and 
rapidly?  How  can  this  rickety,  lumbering,  un- 
reliable thinking-machine  be  put  in  such  repair 
that  it  can  be  depended  upon  to  do  a  given 
amount  of  work  in  a  ^ven  time,  and  not  waste 
"nine-tenths  of  its  force  in  dawdling? 

We  learn  thinking  by  thinking.*  Practice 
makes  perfect.  A  little  girl  can  not  learn  to 
make  the  thread  go  directly  through  the  eye  of 


he  Celestial 
cussion,  but 
tor  Dosem! 
I  make  out! 
ire  by  com- 
the  Greeks! 
thirdly,  and 
the  erratic 


way.  Let 
ten  minutes 
be  the  care 
soul,  or  any 
his  thought 
the  ends  of 
Ezes  near,  it 
thought  and 
I  the  subject 

inuously  and 

nbering,  un- 

such  repair 

do  a  given 

id  not  waste 

g.  Practice 
not  learn  to 
li  the  eye  of 


THINKING. 


4S 


her  needle  till  she  has  thrust  it  this  side  and  that 
at  least  a  thousand  times.  She  can  not  learn  to 
take  up  the  proper  amount  of  cloth  at  each 
fetitch,  and  set  each  stitch  beside  the  one  nearest 
to  which  it  belongs,  till  she  has  pricked  her 
finger  to  roughness  in  false  passes. 

A  boy  does  not  learn  skating  from  lectures 
on  that  pastime,  but  by  buckling  on  the  skates 
and  testing  his  ability  to  retain  the  perpendicular. 
He  learns  to  let  the  center  of  gravity  fall  within 
the  base  from  the  penalty  attending  an  infraction 
of  that  law,  in  the  way  of  an  emphatic  bump  on 
the  ice  now  and  then. 

We  send  our  boys  and  girls  to  school,  and 
they  are  crowded  through  declensions  and  para- 
digms day  after  day,  not  that  by  and  by  they 
are  to  earn  a  livelihood  by  repeating  those  in- 
tricate and  bewildering  linguistic  differences,  but 
they  will  need  in  any  business  the  steady,  straight 
thinking  that  can  be  developed  only  by  these  and 
similar  exercises. 

When  they  venture  out  upon  the  glare  Ice 
of  their  lyceum  argumentations  and  other  wit 
contests,  we  clap  hands  and  cry,  "Bravo!"  We 
know  that  they  are  learning  the  use  of  their 
metaphysical  skates  as  certainly  while  their  feet 
are  gyrating  through  the  air,  and  they  are  meas- 
uring their  length  in  an  intellectual  tumble,  as 


H 


\ 


MH|^MMK> 


44  DIAMOND  DUST. 

when  they  astonish  lookers-on  with  wonderful 
evoUitions  In  the  mental  rink. 

How  can  we  train  ourselves  to  direct  thinking? 
-Shall  we  choose  a  subject  and  sit  down  with  a 
determination  to  lash  ourselves  over  a  given  line 
for  a  given  time,  till  we  learn  to  go  through  the 
exercise  properly?  By  no  means.  Our  minds 
would  resent  such  treatment  and  play  us  any 
number  of  shabby  tricks,  rather  than  submit  to 
the  arbitrary  discipline.  They  would  be  as  in- 
tractable as  little  girls  whom  antiquated  maidens 
oblige  to  sew  seaips  of  infinite  length  and  tedi- 
ousness  by  flourishing  homilies  over  their  heads, 
instead  of  beguiling  the  tiresome  monotony  by 
some  pretty  story  or  sentiment.  We  would  re- 
bel so  resolutely  against  the  exercise  that  a  nerv- 
ous fever  or  something  worse  would  be  the  result. 

There  must  be  something  about  which  we 
think  while  we  are  learning  to  think  that  seems, 
for  the  time  at  least,  to  be  worth  the  effort. 
There  needs  to  be  usually  the  social  element 
enabling  us  to  compare  our  work  and  progress 
with  that  of  others,  and  receive  stimulus  from 
emulation  and  appreciation.  Few  are  earnest 
knd  patient  enough  to  work  their  way  alone 
through  the  memorizing  of  the  terminology  of  a 
science  or  language.  It  can  be  done,  however, 
and  it  must  be  held  as  a  dernier  ressort  in  case 


thinking: 


45 


tct  thinking  f 
lown  with  ai 
a  given  line 
through  the 

Our  minds 
}lay  us  any 
n  submit  to 
Id  be  as  in- 
ited  maidens 
th  and  tedi- 
their  heads, 
lonotony  by 
^e  would  re- 

that  a  nerv- 
)e  the  result. 
it  which  we 
:  that  seems, 
\  the  eiTort. 
cial  element 
md  progress 
imulus  from 

are  earnest 
r  way  alone 
linology  of  a 
ne,  however, 
ssort  in  case 


one  is  deprived  of  the  helps  of  teachers  and  class 
drill  that  are  found  in  college  study. 

If  one  is  young  enough  the  best  thing  is  to 
take  a  colUgiaU  course.     Poverty  is  no  excuse  in 
this  land  where  colleges  are  so  numerous  and 
democratic.     If  we  set  out  upon  a  course  of 
mental  drill  we  will  find  it  talces  all  the  energy 
of  the  faculty  with  their  "honors"  and  "stand- 
ing" and  every  motive  they  can  bring  to  bear 
upon  us  to  keep  us  at  work.     So  lawless  are  we 
by  nature,  it  will  seem  the  supreme  happiness  to 
escape  from  the  grinding  machinery  and   turn 
Modoc  or  Arab  or  any  body  who  does  not  have 
to  study.     The  more  our  school  work  annoys 
us,  the  more  certainly  do  we  need  it,  and  the 
more  resolutely  must  we  determine  to  drive  or 
wheedle  or  coax  ourselves  through  its  drudgery. 

But  suppose  we  are  too  old  or  too  heavy- 
laden  to  go  to  school?  What  then?  Let  us  set 
before  us  the  example  of  the  learned  blacksmith 
and  others  who  have  done  wonders  in  this  line, 
even  while  earning  their  living  at  hard  labor. 
Let  us  remember  that  all  things  are  possible, 

"  Heart  within  and  God  o'erhead." 

Let  US  mark  out  an  easy  tine  of  study  that  we 
can  hold  evenly,  and  then  let  us  not  turn  aside 
for  any  thing. 


4« 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


I  knew  a  woman  who  had  the  care  of  her 
house,  doing  all  its  work  without  help,  and  aid- 
ing her  husband  in  his  ministerial  duties  as  far  as 
she  could,  yet  she  managed  to  acquire  the  equiv- 
alent of  a  college   course,   and   much  besides. 
She  swept  her  house  to  the  rhythm  of  Tennyson 
and   Longfellow.     She   bent  over   her   ironing- 
board  with  a  German  grammar  open  beside  her 
work,  and  repeated.  Ich  bin,  du  bist,  er  ist,  while 
»he  smoothed  the  sheets  and  pillow-cases.     She 
crowded  her  house  care  into  the  closest  possible 
compass— without  robbing  the  home  of  its  com- 
fort—that she  might  get  time  to  study.     That 
of  itself  was  an  excellent  exercise.     Along  at 
first  she  gave  only  fifteen  minuKs  a  day  to  the 
language  or  science  she  was  busy  upon;  but  she 
kept  a  close  account  with -herself,   and  if,   by 
any  chance,  she  lost   the  fifteen  minutes,  she 
made  up  the  time  ab-  soon  as  the  cdmpany  was 
gone  or  the  obstacle  removed.     By  thus  obliging 
herself  to  perform  a  given  amount  of  work  each 
day  she  was  preparing  herself  for  heavier  duties 
in  the  future;  and  by  saving  the  fragments  of 
time  she  was  acquiring  the  means  for  the  better 
discipline  and  enrichment  of  her  mind. 

In  learning  tD  think,  What  shall  «v  study  f  We 
may  answer  in  general  terms.  Just  what  we  do 
not  want  to  study.     Each  line  of  mental  exer- 


care  of  her 
;lp,  and  aid- 
ties  as  far  as 
re  the  equiv- 
uch  besides, 
of  Tennyson 
her  ironing- 
in  beside  her 

er  ist,  while 
ceases.     She 
>sest  possible 
e  of  its  corn- 
study.     That 
>.     Along  at 
a  day  to  the 
pon;  but  she 
,  and  if,  by 
minutes,  she 
:dmpany  was 
thus  obliging 
of  work  each 
leavier  duties 
fragments  of 
for  the  better 
ind. 

■m  study  f^e 
t  what  we  do 

mental  exer- 


THINKING. 


47 


else  is  meant  to  develop  the  powers  in  a  certain 
direction.     If  a  given  line  is  easy  and  agreeable, 
it  is  quite  certain  that  one  has  already  the  devel- 
opment that  would  be  the  result  of  that  disci- 
pline.    For  instance,  linguistic  drill  gives  quick- 
ness, nimbleness  of  thought.     If  one  translates 
readily  from  one  language  into  another,  he  is 
obliged  to  spring  from  one  to  the  other  with  the 
utmost  rapidity.     You  are  talking  to  a  German. 
You  think  "house,"  but,  before  you  can  recall 
its  German  equivalent,  the  French  "maison"  that 
you  learned  in  your  childhood  thrusts  itself  for- 
ward impertinently  and  almost  drops  from  your 
tongue   tip.     You  dart   back  and   rummage   a 
drawer  full  of  Greek  and  Latin  odds  and  ends. 
Something  suggests  the  kinship  between  the  En- 
glish and  German,  and,  the  ear  getting  a  chance 
to  give  a  hint,  you  bring  out  the  word  you  are 
looking  for — "/taus."    That  portion  of  duration 
called  time  has  been  gliding  along  all  this  while, 
and,  as  in  a  beginner's  practice  upon  the  piano, 
there  are  such  long  pauses  between  the  objective 
points,  your  speaking  is  any  thing  but  concise 
and  correct. 

When  the  student  of  music  learns,  to  think 
rapidly  enough  to  get  his  perception  of  the  note 
in  the  printed  lesson  telegraphed  to  his  hand; 
bringing  his  finger  down  upon  the  right  key. 


ifmwiWMWiifiiw 


mmtm 


'tismi^wmmfmmm"-^- 


48 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


i|i 


witli  no  appreciable  loss  of  tiinr  |t  we  vote 
him  accomplished.  So  when  j<i  able  to 
change  the  thought  that  comes  to  him  in  his  ver- 
nacular into  another  language  without  waiting  to 
hunt  up  the  word  he  needs  to  use,  we  know  that 
his  mind  acts  readily,  his  thought  Is  nimble.  If 
one  is  specially  fond  of  the  study  of  languages, 
so  that  all  that  work  Is  easy  for  him,  he  has 
already  what  he  would  acquire  from  such  drill. 

As  nimbleness  is  not  usually  compatible  with 
strength  and  steadiness,  one  who  can  translate 
readily  may  decide  that  his  mind  needs  a  disci- 
pline that  will  give  it  the  ability  for  sustained 
effort.  That  discipline  Is  usually  found  In  math- 
ematical study. 

Not  that  there  is  any  thing  In  mental  contact 
with  numbers  that  specially  stimulates  or  strength- 
ens the  mind,  but  success  In  mathematical  wo^k 
depends  largely  upon  comrnuous  attention.  In 
general  study  you  can  continue  the  mechanical 
effort  while  your  mind  is  prancing  about  leagues 
away  from  the  subject  In  hand.  It  is  difficult  to 
detect  Its  erratic  movements;  but  In  mathemat- 
ical study,  when  one  Is  trying  to  solve  a  difficult 
problem,  if  he  looks  aside  from  the  mark  for 
even  thirty  seconds,  the  chances  are  he  will  have 
to  go  back  and  go  over  all  the  ground  again 
to  find  the  clew  he  has  dropped.     He  is  like  one 


THINKING. 


49 


we  vote 
4  able  to 
u  in  his  ver- 
it  waiting  to 
e  know  that 
nimble.  If 
'  languages, 
liim,  he  has 
I  such  drill, 
patible  with 
an  translate 
:eds  a  discU 
or  sustained 
ind  in  math- 

nlal  contact 
or  strength- 
tatical  wo^k 
tention.  In 
mechanical 
30ut  leagues 
s  difficult  to 
I  mathemat- 
/e  a  difficult 
te  mark  for 
he  will  have 
round  again 
e  is  like  one 


drawing  up  a  bucket  of  water  'viH.  a  rope  hand 
over  hand.  If  he  lets  the  rope  go  for  half  a  min- 
ute, the  bucket  will  fall  and  all  his  labor  be 
wasted. 

Study,  like  that  of  mathematics,  that  enables 
one  to  know  whether  or  not  he  is  holding  his 
attention  steadily  upon  the  matter  before  him, 
is  the  best  exercise  to  give  a  habit  of  going 
straight  through  the  mental  work  in  hand.  Lord 
Bacon  says;  "There  is  no  stand  or  impediment 
in  the  wit  but  may  be  wrought  out  by  fit  studies. 
If  a  man's  wit  be  wandering  let  him  study  math- 
ematics; for  in  demonstrations,  if  his  wit  be 
called  away  never  so  little,  he  must  begin  again ; 
so  every  defect  of  mind  may  have  a  special 
receipt." 

In  the  ordinary  avocations  of  life  we  have  lit- 
tle use  for  any  mathematical  knowledge  beyond 
the  simple  rules  of  arithmetic,  yet  we  need  in 
every  thing  the  habit  of  thinking  steadily  and 
continuously. 

For  instance,  one  is  buying  a  home.  He  is 
making  up  his  mind  upon  the  merits  of  a  certain 
piece  of  property.  He  must  consider  the  econ- 
omy  of  the  purchase,  his  ability  to  meet  the 
payments,  the  health  of  the  place,  its  neighbor- 
hood, schools,  society,  growth,  and  a  dozen  other  ' 
items  that  are  vital  to  the  plan. 

4 


so 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


mr 


mi- 


Other  things  being  equal,  the  man  or  woman 
who  can  go  straight  through  the  details  of  a  busi- 
ness transaction,  as  he  would  have  to  do  through 
a  difficult  mathematical  problem  to  find  its  solu- 
tion, is  the  one  who  can  manage  his  affairs  with 
skill  and  success.  The  one  who  lacks  this  ability 
to  think  abstractly  and  consecutively  will  get  his 
attention  caught  on  some  pleasant  feature  of  the 
bargain,  and  will  lose  sight  of  a  disadvantage 
that  the  one  with  whom  he  is  dealing  may 
spare  no  pains  to  hide. 

In  buying  even  a  piece  of  furniture  a  woman 
goes  through  the  same  mental  processes  that  are 
necessary  to  the  solution  of  a  difficult  problem 
in  calculus.     The  main  difference  is,  if  she  loses 
her  way  in  the  problem  she  knows  it  at  once, 
and  goes  back  to  find  the  path  again,  but  in  the 
business  of  settUng  the  domestic  and  social  details 
of  her  home  she  may  lose  her  way  in  the  rea- 
soning and  fail  of  the  right  conclusions,  and  not 
know  it  until  her  affairs  are  in  a  hopeless  tangle, 
and  an  interest  of  priceless   worth  has  made 
shipwreck.     A  slight  error  in  nautical  calcula- 
tion sent  the  Atlantic  upon  the  rocks  with  its 
hundreds  of  human  lives.     Many  a  well-freighted 
home  craft  has  gone  down  in  a  sullen  sea,^  be- 
cause the  one  at  the  helm  failed  to  think  steadityt 
and  surely  through  the  problem  of  its  management. 


mm 


I 


an  or  woman 
ails  of  a  busi- 

0  do  through 
find  its  solu- 

is  affairs  with 
ks  this  ability 
y  will  get  his 
feature  of  the 
disadvantage 
dealing  may 

ture  a  woman 
resses  that  are 
Scult  problem 
s,  if  she  loses 
s  it  at  once, 
lin,  but  in  the 
d  social  details 
ly  in  the  rea- 
isions,  and  not 
opeless  tangle, 
rth  has  made 
lutical  cal^ula- 
rocks  with  its 

1  well-freighted 
sullen  sea,  be- 
think steadily 

s  management. 


THINKING.  5, 

In  a  saioon  fray  in  the  canons  of  Colorado 
the  vital  qu  stion,  which  of  the  ruffians  shall  go 
out  upon  h..  feet  and  which  shall  be  carried  out 
upon  a  shutter,  depends  upon  the  quickness  with 
which  the  muscle  of  the  trigger  finger  obeys  the 
will.     We  may. be  sure  the  men  who  live  that 
desperate  life  keep  themselves  well  up  in  pistol 
practice.     We  come  to  places  where  every  thing 
depends  upon  our  thought  going  as  swift  and 
sure  as  a  minie-ball  through  tlie  problem  of  des- 
tmy.     There  is  no  time  for  practice,  no  room  for 
bungling.     In  an  instant  the  chance  has  flashed 
by — the  doom  is  sealed. 

The  young  man  who  clung  to  a  capsized  skiff, 
while  the  waves  of  Lake  Michigan  tossed  him 
hither  and  thither  the  livelong  night,  found  that 
his  life  depended  upon  the  reserve  power  of  his 
muscle,  his  ability  to  hold  on  amid  the  beating 
of  the  surges  where  others  would  have  let  go  and 
sunk  in  death. 

That  friend  of  mine  who  held  her  nerves  quiet 
while  she  cowed  a  fierce  dog  with  her  eye,  and 
backed  slowly  out  of  his  reach,  found  that  every 
thing  depended  upon  her  ability  to  keep  all  her 
powers  in  steady  action  through  what  seemed 
an  age. 

We  come  to  places  where  not  only  human  ' 
lives,  but  the  salvation  of  souls,  may  hinge  upon 


52 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


our  ability  to  hold  ourselves  to  close,  continuous 
attention.  To  look  off  for  a  moment  means  to 
fail  utterly  and  lose  the  vital  point.  Well  for  us 
if  our  school  mathematics,  or  some  equivalent 
discipline  has  taught  us  to  hold  our  thought  in  a 

given  line. 

There  is  an  analogy  between  physical  and  men- 
tal hygiene.  The  body  is  kept  healthy  and  its 
vigor  increased  by  proper  food  as  well  as  due  ex- 
ercise. It  is  impossible  for  the  mijscle  to  be 
firm  and  reliable  unless  the  aliment  is  strong  and 
nutritious.     Neither  can  th**  mind  be  vigorous  if 

it   is  fed  on  trash.  

The  racer  in  the  Olympi         .    s  held  himself 
to  the  closest  diet  during  :  1-   ..leparatory  drill. 
We  are  in  training  for  mental  and  spiritual  con- 
tests, upon  the  result  of  which  are  hinged  the 
interests    of   eternity.       "For   we    wrestle    not 
against  flesh  and  blood,  but  against  principalities, 
against  powers,  against  the  rulers  of  the  darkness 
of  this  world,  against  spiritual  wickedness  in  high 
places."    We  must  avoid  all  mental  food  that 
can  impair  our  powers,  for  not  the  olive  wreath 
nor  the  applause  of  the  excited  multitude  will 
reward  our  success,  but  a  crown  of  glory  and  the 
••Well  done"  of  God. 

What  shall   be  our  mental  pabulumr     Ccr- 
tainly   not  the   cheap   hash  of  events   that   is 


! 


THINKING. 


S3 


se,  continuous 
ent  means  to 
Well  for  us 
me  equivalent 
r  thought  in  a 

sical  and  men- 
ealthy  and  its 
^^ell  as  due  ex- 
mj^scle  to  be 
t  is  strong  and 
be  vigorous  if 

s  held  himself 
iparatory  drill. 
I  spiritual  con- 
are  hinged  the 
e    wrestle    not 
it  principalities, 
of  the  darkness 
kedness  in  high 
ental  food  that 
he  olive  wreath 
[  multitude  will 
>f  glory  and  the 

Pabulum  f     Cer- 
events   that   is 


chopped  up  for  us  and  sensationally  seasoned  by 
reporters  and  daily  editors.  If  we  desire  to  learn 
the  art  of  forgetting,  and  surely  the  years  will 
teach  us  that,  let  us  cram  our  minds  with  what 
we  have  no  wish  to  carry  twenty-four  hours.  If 
we  go  through  the  reports  of  scandal  suits,  mur- 
ders, domestic  embroglios,  and  the  like,  it  will 
be  well  for  us  if  we  are  able  to  forget  the  bulk 
of  what  we  read.  There  can  be  very  little  food 
for  the  mind  in  tons  of  such  material. 

Foul  air,  decaying  vegetables,  and  diseased 
meats  fatten  fof  the  maw  of  the  pestilence  the 
unwashed  masses  that  fester  in  the  alleys  and 
dens  of  great  cities.  Dime  novels  and  similar 
fulsome,  sensual,  vile  publications  poison  the 
unthinking  people,  and  fit  them  to  be  carried 
off  by  the  pest  winds  of  Mormonism,  Spiritism, 
free-lovism,  diabolism. 

We  will  find  healthy  mental  food  in  history, 
art,  science,  poetry  and,  above  all,  as  a  staple, 
in  God's  Book,  that  fotintain  and  aggregate  of  all 
truth.  We  may  indulge  now  then  and  in  a  little 
of  the  best -made  fictional  sweetmeats,  but  our 
minds  can  gain  solid  strength  only  from  solid 
aliment. 

We  will  not  grow  strong  by  devouring  books. 

Seneca  said,  "  Read  much,  but  read  few  books." 

The  mental  exercises  of  some  students  are  sim- 


S4 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


ply  mnemonic.  Tlieir  knowledge  is  cyclopaedic- 
all  in  quotation  points.  Such  people  are  exceed- 
ingly convenient  to  save  the  time  of  thinkers. 
They  can  give  you  what  you  need  on  demand, 
with  no  rummaging  of  books,  but  when  they 
need  to  put  forth  a  personal  intellectual  effort, 
they  are  as  weak  and  helpless  as  children.  We 
are  always  wondering  why  they  do  not  amount 
to  more,  and  we  conclude  that  being  able  to  rat- 
tle other  men's  words  from  the  pen's  point  or 
tongue's  tip,  may  make  a  clever  quotationist,  but 
never  a  strong,  rich  thinker. 

We  must  digest  what  we  eat  if  we  would  ap- 
propriate to  ourselves  its  strength.  So  we  must 
make  what  we  read  our  own  by  taking  it  to 
pieces  and  absorbing  its  substance. 

To  get  the  best  intellectual  strength  let  us 
learn  first  aur  own  language,  as  Lowell  calls  it — 
"  that  wonderful  composite  known  as  English, 
the  best  result  of  the  confusion  of  tongues."  It 
is  the  speech  in  which  we  pfay  and  praise,  make 
our  bargains  and  win  our  friends.  It  is  certainly 
of  prime  importance  that  we  should  know  the 
use  and  meaning  of  its  words  and  phrases  and 
sentences,  so  that  when  we  intend  to  say  one 
thing  we  may  not  give  utterance  to  quite  another, 
that,  though  like  what  we  would  say,  does  not 
convey  its  actual  meaning.     How  miich  bitter- 


1 


^ 


•r 


THINKING. 


55 


cyclopedic— 
e  are  exceed- 

of  thinkers. 

on  demand, 
it  when  they 
ectual  effort, 
Kildren.  We 
>  not  amount 
ig  able  to  rat- 
)en's  point  or 
>tationist,  but 

we  would  ap- 

So  we  must 

'  taking  it  to 

rength  let  us 
veil  calls  it — 
n  as  English, 
tongues."  It 
1  praise,  make 
It  is  certainly 
tuld  know  the 
1  phrases  and 
id  to  say  one 
quite  another, 
say,  does  not 
r  miich  bitter- 


ness and  heart-burning,  how  many  quarrels  would 
have  been  saved  if  they  whose  vernacular  is  En- 
glish had  so  learned  their  native  tongue  as  to  be 
able  to  speak  it  intelligibly,  saying  simply  and 
only  what  they  mean. 

How  much  more  thought  we  could  get  time 
for,  if  we  were  not  so  busy  with  trying  to  find 
the  exact  meaning  of  what  others  have  written 
and  said.  How  much  more  actual  Christian 
achievement  there  would  be  if  the  talking  folk 
gave  us  their  meaning  in  plain,  exact  language. 

It  is  difficult  to  understand  English  without 
a  knowledge  of  the  wise,  motherly,  old  Latin 
and  also  of  French  and  German,  for  we  must 
know  that  "phonetic  decay  and  dialectic  regen- 
eration," as  Max  MUller  would  say,  have  so 
changed  the  face  of  many  of  our  words,  that  we 
can  get  their  exact  significance  only  by  going 
back  to  their  early  home  and  associations. 

Linguistic  study  not  only  disciplines  to  readi- 
ness, it  enriches  and  ei^  nobles  our  thought.  As 
the  fertility  of  Egypt  depends  upon  the  overflow 
of  the  Nile,  and  each  inundation  leaves  an  allu- 
vial deposit,  so  every  stream  of  new  thought 
that  flows  over  the  mind  leaves  upon  it  some- 
thing of  its  own  richness  and  strength.  Whether 
it  be  the  copious,  resonant  Latin,  the  imaginar 
tive  German,  the  dignified  Spanish,  the  musical 


56 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


Italian,  the  polished  Greek,  the  poetic  Hebrew, 
or  that  wonderful  Sanskrit, — a  language  mas- 
tered adds  to  the  intellectual  volume. 

And  this  is  true  also  of  an  author.  '  'le 
has  the  verdict  of  the  thoughtful  and  far-s^eing, 
it  will  pay  to  read  carefully  what  he  has  taken 
pains  to  write.  We  must  not  read  along  skim- 
in'ngly.  page  after  page,  hoping  to  come  to  an 
understanding  with  him,  and  get  at  his  meaning 
after  a  while.  Let  us  read  word  by  word,  line 
by  line,  sentence  by  sentence,  till  we  are  satis- 
fied that  we  take  in  the  substance  of  his  thought 
as  far  as  we  are  able  to  apprehend  its  force.  A 
few  pages  plodded  through  in  this  laborious 
manner,  and  our  fine  thinker  is  conquered.  He 
can  but  tell  us  what  he  means  to  say. 

A  certain  reading  of  Dante's  "Divina  Com- 
media"  will  serve  to  illustrate  this  point.  A 
trio  of  friends,  resting  in  the  woods,  took  up  the 
work  of  the  mighty  Italian,  and  read  it  in  an 
easy,  sauntering  way,  after  the  day's  merry- 
making or  study.  They  usually  left  the  poor 
victims  of  Dante's  punitive  genius  to  boil,  or 
broil,  and  dropped  off  to  sleep  in  the  midst 
of  the  infernal  terrors,  with  a  peaceful  sense 
of  having  done  their  duty  by  la  crhne  de  la 
crhne  of  polite  literature.  Neither  dared  say  to 
the  others    "  Dante  is  certainly  stupid, .  in  spite 


THINKING. 


VI 


Stic  Hebrew, 
iiguage  tnas- 
e. 

ithor.  '  'le 
id  far-s«.eing, 
ie  has  taken 
I  along  skim- 
come  to  an 
his  meaning 
>y  word,  line 
we  are  satis- 
f  his  thought 
its  force.  A 
lis  laborious 
quered.     He 

y- 

Divina  Corn- 
Is  point,  A 
,  took  up  the 
ead  it  in  an 
iay's  merry- 
eft  the  poor 
3  to  boil,  or 
n  the  midst 
:aceful  sense 
crhne  de  la 
dared  say  to 
pid, .  in  spite 


of  the  eulogiums  of  the  critics,  and  Longfellow's 
translation  is  wretched  English."  After  a  while 
it  occurred  to  them  to  study  this  poet  of  whom 
so  many  fine  things  had  been  written  and  said. 
Then  the  ;  ,d  that  each  line  was  replete  with 
poetic  power,  pach  sentence  held  some  figure  of 
speech  all  aglow  with  the  fire  of  genius.  They 
learned  wisdom  from  their  foolish  waste  of  op- 
portunity. 

If  one  would  go  easily  through  a  study,  he 
must  master  its  axioms  at  the  outset.  My  friend 
has  been  supposed  to  have  special  power  over 
the  scraggy  mathematical  quantities  that  are  such 
a  terror  to  ordinary  students.  The  secret  of  her 
success  cropped  out  one  day  when  she  told  me 
that  her  mother  never  permitted  her  to  learn  a 
new  rule  or  theorem  in  arithmetic  or  algebra,  till 
she  had  wrought  some  of  the  examples,  study- 
ing out  for  herself  the  principle  which  was  in- 
volved, and  making  for  her  own  understanding 
a  formula.  v> 

She  learned  also  from  the  same  wise  teacher 
that  a  few  hours  of  extra  time  given  to  the 
first  chapters  of  a  book  where  its  principles  are 
being  laid  down,  will  save  days  of  lumbering, 
crippled  attempts  to  wade  through  its  later  prob- 
lems. "It  is  the  first  step  that  counts"  in  more 
senses  than  one. 


58 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


Our  Hebrew  professor  holds  us  for  hours  upon 
the  first  paragraphs  of  the  Bible.  "Get  those 
words  perfectly,"  he  says,  as  he  picks  them  to 
pieces,  one  by  one;  "know  them  in  all  their  rela- 
tions, and  you  will  have  passed  through  the  gate 
that  admits  you  to  this  wonderful  revelation  of 
God."  He  tell  us  that  when  he  was  a  student  in 
the  Viatican  University  in  Rome,  his  father,  spend- 
ing a  few  days  with  him,  noticed  a  fault  in  his 
general  leading.  His  grandfather  had  given  him 
a  hundred  ducats  with  which  to  buy  books,  and 
he  was  quite  proud  of  his  little  library.  His 
father  observed,  however,  that  during  the  fifteen 
minutes  between  lecture  hours,  he  glanced  over 
the  pages  of  a  half  dozen  books,  and  before  he 
had  selected  one  into  which  he  might  dip,  the 
time  was  up,  and  he  had  to  go  back  to  his  pro- 
fessor. When  he  came  from  the  lecture  room, 
his  father  told  him  that  during  the  three  years 
that  he  was  to  remain  in  the  university  he  could 
be  permitted  to  read  nothing  but  Darte,  Pe- 
trarch, Goethe,  Shakespeare,  and  Milton,  be- 
cause, if  he  kept  up  his  studies  as  he  ought,  he 
would  have  only  these  fragments  of  time  for 
general  reading.  It  would  not  do  for  him  to 
lose  half  his  time  deciding  what  to  read,  and  the 
other  half  in  getting  hold  of  the  thread  of  the 
author's  thought.     The  writers  chosen  have  an 


f 


-  hours  upon 
"Get  those 
cks  them  to 
ill  their  rela- 
igh  the  gate 
evelation  of 
a  student  in 
ither,  spend- 

fault  in  his 
id  given  him 
r  books,  and 
ibrary.  His 
g  the  fifteen 
|r1anced  over 
id  before  he 
ght  dip,  the 
:  to  his  pro- 
^ture  room, 

three  years 
iity  he  could 

Darte,  Pe- 

Mikon,  be- 
lie ought,  he 
of  time  for 

for  him  to 
■ead,  and  the 
iread  of  the 
•sen  have  an 


THINKING. 


99 


idea  in  every  sentence.  Their  works  may  be 
opened  anywhere,  and  there  is  something  di- 
rectly under  the  eye  well  worth  the  reading. 
They  ennoble  our  minds  by  holding  before  them 
the  finest  imagery,  the  sublimest  soaring  of  im- 
agination, or  the  most  subtle  analysis  of  human 
character. 

There  is  a  double  lesson  in  this  rule  of  the 
thoughtful  father:  What  we  read  must  be  of  the 
very  best,  that  that  gives  a  full,  rounded  idea  in 
the  fewest  words,  and  so  is  most  provocative  of 
thought,  and  also  that  we  must  use  to  the  best 
advantage  the  odds  and  ends  of  time.  The 
ordinary  way  of  getting  rich  is  by  saving  the 
small  sums — economy  in  little  expenditures.  To 
get  much  knowledge  o.ie  must  use  the  scraps  of 
time.  Any  avocation  usually  makes  a  demand 
that  covers  the  whole  of  one's  time.  If  he  does 
his  work  well  he  has  only  minutes  left  for  read- 
ing. Now,  the  one  who  crowds  up  to  a  better 
place  where  he  may  have  firmer  standing-room, 
and  a  broader  outlook,  is  the  one  who  thinks  so 
carefully  through  the  details  of  his  work  that  he 
can  do  it  more  rapidly,  and  so  save  a  little  time ; 
then  he  uses  every  moment  to  push  his  ability 
toward  that  to  which  he  aspires.  In  this  way, 
to  him  that  hath  more  is  given. 

Some  excuse  themselves  from  reading  on  the 


BH 


I  s 


60 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


score  of  their  being  pn  ised  with  care,  driven  by 
business.  We  notice,  however,  that  those  same 
overburdened  people  manage  to  wade  through 
any  amount  of  matter  in  the  daily  papers,  with 
now  and  then  a  cheap  story  that  takes  hours  for 
the  working  up  of  its  wonderful  matrimonial 
dinouement. 

Wesley  not  only  studied  philosophy,  Biblical 
criticism,  and  philology  on  horseback,  but  he 
wrote  excellent  works  on  those  subjects.  We 
might,  any  of  us,  find  time  for  a  great  deal  of 
good  reading  if  we  would  use  the  hours  that  are 
spent  in  driving  to  market,  going  upon  visits, 
riding  to  and  from  business.  We  see  in  the 
street-cars  whole  rows  of  women  who  are  gossip- 
ing with  eye  or  tongue  upon  the  cut  of  chil- 
dren's sacques,  the  style  of  ladies'  cloaks,  etc., 
and  tiers  of  men  who  are  intrenched  behind  a 
hastily  written  and  badly  printed  sheet  engaged 
upon  a  more  expensive  order  of  gossip,  and  one 
not  always  as  innocent;  but  only  once  in  a 
dozen  rides  do  we  see  one — excepting  always 
the  students  who  are  driven  to  use  this  time  to 
keep  up  with  their  classes — who  is  busy  upon 
some  work  that  will  give  scope  and  breadth  and 
grasp  of  thought. 

Perhaps  at  most  one  can  give  only  minutes 
to  reading.     Then  let  him  read  the  best.     If  he 


M^bi 


11 


,  driven  by 
:hose  same 
le  through 
apers,  with 
s  hours  for 
natrimonial 

ly,  Biblical 
:k,  but  he 
jects.  We 
:at  deal  of 
irs  that  are 
pon  visits, 
see  in  the 
are  gossip- 
rut  of  chil- 
loaks,  etc., 
i  behind  a 
et  engaged 
ip,  and  one 
once  in  a 
ing  always 
:his  time  to 
busy  upon 
>readth  and 

ily  minutes 
«st.     If  he 


THINKING. 


«i 


will  study  with  Shakespeare  the  modes  of  thought 
and  expression,  and  the  life  of  those  old  Eliza- 
bethan days,  he  will  find  that  he  has  a  gallery 
of  antiquated  English  art  next  door  to  his  shop 
or  oflfice,  sewing-room  or  kitchen.  If  he  has 
only  ten  minutes  to  spare,  instead  of  gossiping 
with  a  neighbor  about  some  ephemeral  excite- 
ment, some  nine  days'  wonder,  or  with  tout  U 
MOiide  through  the  daily  press  about  some  larger 
item  of  astonishment,  he  steps  into  his  gallery, 
shuts  out  the  work-a-day  world,  and  laughs  or 
cries  with  the  mighty  magician  over  his  Portias, 
Desdemonas,  and  Hamlets.  Somehow  he  finds 
an  interpretation  gf  many  of  the  little  events  of 
life,  lifting  them  out  of  the  commonplace,  and 
showing  how  they  bear,  like  the  minor  points  in 
the  plot  of  a  story  or  play,  upon  the  tremendous 
whole  of  being. 

Men  and  women  of  genius  interpret  us  to 
ourselves.  If  we  listen  to  them,  we  may  find 
the  grand  harmony  of  which  even  the  discords 
are  a  necessary  part.  They  will  certainly  give 
us  to  see  through  the  shallow  pretenses  of  the 
strutting,  small  people,  and  we  will  learn  to  seek 
the  grand,  ultimate  good,  even  though  it  be  by 
the  way  of  Gethsemane  and  Calvary.  The  rev- 
elations of  genius  supplement  and  emphasize 
those  of  the  Book  of  God.     They  are  the  out- 


6a 


D/AMOND  DUST. 


ill 

'it 


lying  fringes  of  the  meanings  of  the  Infinite. 
Though  they  must  never  supplant  the  divine 
teaching,  they  may  help  to  an  apprehension  of 
its  fullness  of  thought. 

Our  tliinking,  to  be  right,  must  be  from  the 
right  motive.  Much  fine  thinking  is  in  the  in- 
terest of  selfishness,  mammon,  sin,  and  so  is  all 
wrong.  It  may  move  men  mightily,  but  it  is 
down  the  inclined  plane  toward  perdition.  Such 
thinkers  may  be  gifted  with 

"  The  art  Napoleon 
Of  wooing,  wiitning,  wielding,  fettering,  banding 
Ttie  hearts  of  million*  tili  they  iiiuve  ns  one," 

yet  they  are  doomed  to  ultimate  defeat.  God's 
puipose  is  the  only  power  that  moves  to  sure, 
final  victory. 

Emerson  says,  "Hitch  your  wagon  to  a  star." 
We  would  say,  rather,  Bring  your  tiny  purpose 
into  harmony  with  Him  who  made  and  manages 
the  stars,  and  you  can  not  fail  of  right  results. 

That  our  thinking  may  be  successful,  as  well 
as  right  and  strong,  we  must  consecrate  our 
mental  powers  to  God. 

Some  well-meaning  people  mistake  at  this 
point.  They  take  the  service  of  God  as  some- 
thing that  is  required,  and  must  be  gone  through, 
like  working  on  the  road,  or  doing  military  duty ; 
or  they  regard  it  a  somewhat  unpleasant  neces- 


;^,i. 


THINKING. 


he  Infinite. 

the  divine 

ehension  of 

be  from  the 
s  in  the  in* 
nd  so  is  all 
^,  but  it  is 
tion.     Such 

>n 

banding 
le," 

feat.  God's 
t^es  to  sure, 

n  to  a  star." 
iny  purpose 
nd  manages 
[it  results, 
isful,  as  well 
isccrate  our 

ake  at  this 
3d  as  some- 
>ne  through, 
ilitary  duty ; 
asant  neces- 


sity, like  carrying  a  life  insurance,  to  guard 
against  a  possible  exigency.  They  mean  to 
escape  hell  and  get  to  heaven,  but  they  intend 
to  have  money,  place,  and  power  on  the  way. 

Now,  let  them  devote  their  mental  ability  to 
the  service  of  Him  who  cl  .ims  all,  and  they  will 
find  that  Mie  primal  use  of  consecrated  thinking  is 
the  work.iig  out  of  a  clearly  cut  crystalline 
character. 

Others,  who  recog.iize  more  fully  the  Lord's 
right  to  the  best  ....  the  lif  ,  mista'te  in  this: 
they  regard  religion  as  an  aff  .  of  tiie  emotions, 
and  having  very  little  to  d>    'vith  the  intellect. 

They  watch  tlv  ;  '^ensibilities  as  refuUy  as 
a  physician  notes  the  symptoms  of  iiis  patient. 
They  keep  diaries  in  which  they  note  just  how 
they  felt  at  such  a  time,  and  under  such  and 
such  circumstances,  as  if  the  condition  of  the 
feelings  were  a  sure  exponent  of  the  state  of 
grace. 

Conspicuous  among  those  who  live  by  senti- 
ment rather  than  by  faith  (which  is  another 
name  for  religious  common  sense)  are  the  old 
Romish  saints  and  recluses,  who  regarded  pious 
meditations  and  introspection  the  sum  of  relig- 
ious -'ury.  They  kfpt  that  most  subtle  and 
variable  and  uncertain  part  of  the  nature,  the 
emotional,  forever   under  the  microscope.     No 


'^itik^^0S^^^ii^^^^Mi-^^*^M^i^'^-'  .■■i^^-a/i:.v.^*fe'9ff'Sfe^^-.',itwiu^t*,-iW.M*<vfc^'^ 


LI 


n 


64 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


wonder  that  they  grew  morbid  and  erratic,  see- 
ing visions  and  dreaming  dreams. 

It  would  have  saved  a  deal  of  trouble  if  they 
had  given  their  logic  a  chance  to  straighten  out 
their  spiritual  kinks.  And  there  are  not  wanting 
among  Protestants  those  who  are  quite  as  foolish. 
There  are  consecrated  men  and  women  who  are 
ready  to  pray  and  praise  indefinitely,  and  to  do 
any  thing  that  will  give  a  good,  active  tone  to 
their /ir^/i«^.y,  but  who  seem  to  think  it  cold  and 
heartless  to  pay  any  attention  to  the  spiritual 
use  of  the  intellect.  They  believe  as  surely 
as  do  Romanists  that  ignorance  is  the  mother 
of  '^evotion.  They  feel  their  way  through  the 
adjustment  of  their  relations  to  God  and  men 
instead  of  permitting  their  reason  to  bear  a 
proper  part  in  the  work.  They  bring  their 
emotions  to  the  happiest  condition,  but  leave 
their  power  to  think  upon  the  tremendous  ques- 
tions pertaining  to  the  spiriiual  life  all  unused 
and  weedy,  like  a  fallow  field.  The  result  is  a 
character,  one-sided,  weak,  superstitious,  bigoted, 
liable  at  any  hour  to  be  warped  out  of  all  form 
and  comeliness  by  the  archenemy,  and  always 
unfit  for  the  heaviest,  strongest  work. 

As  soon  as  one  has  attained  a  completeness 
of  consecration  that  sets  him  entirely  at  rest 
about  his  own  spiritual  condition,  he  begins  to 


I 


erratic,  see- 

)iible  if  they 
raighten  out 
not  wanting 
te  as  foolish, 
nen  who  are 
'.  and  to  do 
tive  tone  to 
^  it  cold  and 
the  spiritual 
e   as    surely 

the  mother 

through  the 

3d  and  men 

to   bear  a 

bring  their 
,  but  leave 
:ndous  ques- 
:  all  unused 
s  result  is  a 
)us,  bigoted, 
:  of  all  form 

and  always 

:ompleteness 
rely  at  rest 
le  begins  to 


THINKING. 


65 


1 


obey  the  leadings  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  caring 
for  the  souls  of  others.  And  just  here  there  is 
the  greatest  need  of  sure,  steady  thinking.  No 
work  is  more  worthy  of  the  best  intellectual 
vigor  than  the  work  of  God.  In  any  thing  else 
we  may  better  be  mechanical  and  blundering 
than  in  this,  the  most  vital. 

In  every  department  of  God's  work  there  is 
need  of  a  re-enforcement  of  strong,  sure  thinking. 
Many  a  good  cause  suffers,  and  some  perish,  for 
the  lack  of  good  management.  That  sad  utter- 
ance of  the  Savior  sounds  like  a  dirge  above  the 
wrecks  of  good  enterprises  that  lie  along  the 
path  of  the  years,  "The  children  of  this  world 
are  wiser  in  their  generation  than  the  children 
of  light."  Diplomatists,  politicians,  business 
men  study  directness,  polish,  nice  address,  every 
art  that  has  power  over  mind,  to  help  them 
carry  out  their  schemes,  while  the  Lord's  work-, 
ers  blunder  through  their  duties  in  any  sort ' 
of  way. 

We  need  to  think  more  carefully  how  to  lead 
others  to  the  Savior.  We  will  learn  more  for  that 
work  in  the  study  of  human  mind,  than  in  all 
good  books. 

We  must  not  stumble  in  upon  people,  re- 
gardless of  their  modes  of  thought  and  action.  - 
We  can  not -force  a  way  into  their  territory  just 

5 


66 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


.\ 


.:{: 


where  we  please  to  demand  entrance.  Every 
one  has  beaten  routes  through  his  spiritual  do- 
main— the  tramways  over  which  he  carries  his 
exports  and  imports.  We  must  strike  into  them 
with  our  artillery  and  supply-trains,  if  we  would 
conquer  him  for  God.  Some  people  have  faith- 
force  enough  to  construct  military  roads  wherever 
they  choose  to  go,  yet  we  can  not  help  thinking 
that  the  same  zeal  would  accomplish  infinitely 
more  if  the  laws  of  mind  were  regarded. 

For  instance,  see  how  cautiously  a  man  "ap- 
proaches" you,  if  he  wants  to  insure  your  life. 
No  rhetorician  was  ever  more  careful  to  assure 
an  audience  of  his  good  principle,  good  sense, 
and  good- will.  If  he  began  and  carried  his  work 
as  abruptly  and  unbendingly  as  some  Christians 
set  about  leading  a  soul  to  the  Redeemer,  he 
would  die  in  the  poor-house. 

There  is  a  world  of  unnecessary  lumber  block- 
ing up  the  way  to  the  cross.  Penitents  are 
dragged  through  it  by  the  force  of  conviction 
and  the  faith  of  the  Church.  When  they  find 
themselves  rejoicing  within  the  "wicket  gate," 
hardly  one  in  ten  can  tell  by  what  process  he 
reached  that  point.  How  much  better  it  would 
be  if  seekers  of  Christ's  salvation  could  be  so 
instructed  in  regard  to  the  way  of  faith  as  to 
know  the  principles  that  underlie  the  new  life. 


THINKING. 


67 


nice.  Every 
spiritual  do- 
e  carries  his 
ke  into  them 
if  we  would 
e  have  faith- 
ads  wherever 
ie!p  thinking 
ish  infinitely 
rded. 

a  man  "ap- 
re  your  life, 
ul  to  assure 
good  sense, 
ied  his  work 
le  Christians 
edeemer,  he 

imber  block- 
enitents  are 
r  conviction 
:n  they  find 
icket  gate," 
_  process  he 
ter  it  would 
could  be  so 
faith  as  to 
le  new  life, 


being  shown  them  as  they  take  the  steps  by 
which  it  is  made  possible  for  God  to  change  their 
relation  to  himself  They  would  then  be  like 
sailors  who  know  something  about  the  managing 
of  a  sliip  before  they  go  to  sea.  When  the 
storms  of  temptation  strike  them,  they  would 
know  how  to  keep  steadily  on  their  course. 

The  newly  converted  ought  to  be  cared  for  a 
great  deal  more  thoughtfully  than  they  are  under 
the  present  regitne.  They  are  usually  left  to 
themselves  when  their  names  are  fairiy  on  the 
Church  record.  They  need  more  help  thrn  ever 
when  they  really  set  about  establishing  a  new 
character,  and  begin  to  understand  how  much 
there  is  to  overcome.  The  Church  is  exceed- 
ingly remiss  in  this  matter. 

As  if  one  should  gather  up  fifty  or  a  hun- 
dred little  orphans  and  range  them  in  rows  of 
cribs  with  a  table  well  furnished  with  meats  and 
vegetables  before  each,  and  then  lock  them  in 
and  go  on  his  way,  rejoicing  over  his  wonderful 
orphan  house,  and  the  grand  men  and  women 
that  were  to  be  the  outgrowth  of  his  scheme; 
the  ordinary  methods  of  caring  for  Christ's  little 
ones  are  not  much  less  absurd.  No  wonder 
that  such  numbers  are  weak  and  sickly,  and  so 
many  die. 

Suppose  some  Sabbath  day  one  should  sue- 


\ 


■'^»i'iittty.lMwiirtiiiMI 


)i6'-)«liMK«iS.->«WMtiliiM!ll«>.'.. 


I: 


DIAMOND  DUST, 

ceed  in  getting  a  dozen  drunkards  to  take  the 
pledge;  then  he  should  leave  them  — making 
no  eflTort  to  help  them  find  employment,  better 
associations,  and  decent  homes.  They  may  go 
back  to  their  old  haunts  among  the  whisky 
stenches,  and  fight  the  devils  single  handed  till 
they  shall  chance  to  hear  again  the  eloquence 
that  roused  them  to  a  sense  of  danger,  A 
thousand  wonders  if  every  one  of  them  is  not 
back  again  in  the  ditch  by  Saturday  night. 

We  ought   to    use   our   very  best  thought 
upon   this  work  of  helping  to  assured,   estab- 
lished  Christian   life   the    "babes"   of  Christ's 
household.     If  we   know  one  of  them   to   be 
staggering  under  temptation,  we  ought  to  take 
up  his  case  as  we  would  a  difficult  problem,  one 
upon  which  were   pending  tremendous  issues. 
If  need  be,  we  should  spend   hours  in  close, 
prayerful  study,  measure  his  infirmities,  his  pe- 
culiarities; think  how  he  could  be  reached,  how 
held.     Trusting  the  Savior's  help,  ten  to  one,  we 
could  get  him  again  out  of  Satan's  clutches. 
If,  through  our  lack  of  care,  he  is  permitted  to 
go  back  to  his  sins,  his  state  will  be  infinitely 
worse  than  at  first,  for  he  will  take  to  himself 
seven  other  spirits  more  wicked  than  himself. 
Thought  given  to  this  work  pays  abundantly. 
Did  not  the  sulvation  of  souls  cost  Christ  his 


' 


I  to  take  the 
;m  —  making 
ment,  better 
hey  may  go 

the  whisky 
:  handed  till 
le  eloquence 

danger,  A 
them  is  not 

night. 

lest  thought 
lured,  estab- 

of  Christ's 
:hem  to  be 
ight  to  take 
Toblem,  one 
lous  issues. 
tS  in  close, 
ties,  his  pe- 
;ached,  how, 
I  to  one,  we 
's  clutches, 
lermitted  to 
be  infinitely 

to  himself 
an  himself, 
abundantly. 
t  Christ  his 


THINKING. 


69 


X 


life?     Heaven  is  eternal  growth  and  glory,  hell 
a  fathomless  horror. 

Family  religion  gives  ample  scope  for  the 
best  thinking.     Family  piety  is  one  of  the  most 
potent  agencies  for  the  perpetuity  of  the  Chris- 
tian   Church,    yet    how    little   do   good   people 
understand  and  use  its  power.     In   many  fam- 
ilies religious  instruction  is  left  altogether  'to  the 
Sunday-school  teacher  and  the  pastor.     If,  from 
force  of  habit,  the  parents  take  the  duties  that 
belong   to    the    heads   of   families,    recognizing 
God  at  the  table,  and  worshiping  him  once  or 
twice  a  day  as  a  household,  it  is  in  such  a  me- 
chanical, meaningless  way,   that  it  were  better 
left  undone.     A  long  chapter  with  never  a  ques- 
tion  or  a  word   of  explanation  or  illustration, 
and  a  longer  prayer.     Little  feet    fidget   upon 
chair    rounds  till  they  are  nervous  enough   to 
fly  in   spite   of  the   most    dignified   propriety. 
Big    boys   and  giris  rebel.     The    father   scolds 
and  tightens  the  rein  for  awhile,  and  ends  in 
letting  them  do  as  they  please.     The   mother 
protests  in  a  meek  way,  and  comforts  herself 
with  a  determination  to  ask  pra,  ers  for  them, 
and   to  get  the  minister  to   come  and  talk  to 
them,  hoping  that  they  will  be  "converted  this 
Winter."    Oh,  what  blunders!    The  power  of 
music  untried,  the  teaching  of  Scriptural  truth 


I 


70 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


with  note  and  anecdote — giving  Hebrew  eyes 
with  which  to  see  into  this  wonderful  Hebrew 
Book,  that  alone  contains  the  way  of  salva- 
tion— all  warm,  genial,  earnest  means  of  home 
grace  unused,  and  the  children  growing  up  to 
vote  "prayers"  an  unmitigated  bore,  and  the 
Bible  the  most  stupid  of  books— driven  to  hate 
the  faith  of  their  fathers  by  the  cold,  formal 
attempts  at  family  worship.  How  unlike  God's 
plan  for  home  piety  and  instruction. 

"Hear,  O  Israel:  the  Lord  our  God  is  one 
Lord:  and  thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  tliy  God 
with  all  thine  heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul,  and 
with  all  thy  might.  And  these  words,  which  I 
command  thee  this  day,  shall  be  in  thine  heart : 
and  thou  shalt  teach  them  diligently  unto  thy 
children,  and  shalt  talk  of  them  when  thou  sittest 
in  thine  house,  and  when  thou  walkest  by  the 
way,  and  when  thou  liest  down,  and  when  thou 
risest  up."  Even  with  this  divine  injunction  as 
a  model,  there  is  need  of  the  closest,  strongest 
thinking,  if  one  would  train  his  family  to  earnest 
religious  life. 

Sabbath-school  workers  need  to  bring  to  their 
most  important  work  well-disciplined,  consecrated 
thought.  In  our  public  -  schools,  teaching  is 
studied  most  carefully.  Hours  are  given  each 
week    by   each   teacher    to    learning   the   best 


'wiuSnEKSilSS^TU 


THINKING. 


71 


ebrew  eyes 
•ful  Hebrew 
ly  of  salva- 
tis  of  home 
wing  up  to 
re,  and  the 
iven  to  hate 
cold,  formal 
inlike  God's 

God  is  one 
rd  tliy  God 
ly  soul,  and 
rds.  which  I 
thine  heart: 
:ly  unto  thy 
thou  sittest 
kest  by  the 
\  when  thou 
njunction  as 
st,  strongest 
ly  to  earnest 

ring  to  their 

,  consecrated 

teaching   is 

given  each 

ig   the    best 


methods  of  imparting  instruction.  It  is  not 
enough  that  one  is  thoroughly  versed  in  the 
study,  she  must  know  the  best  way  of  drawing 
out  the  young  mind,  and  bringing  it  to  exercise 
its  powers  upon  the  text-book  in  hand.  She 
must  understand  how,  with  object  lessons,  pic- 
tures, blackboards,  to  make  truth  simple  and 
tangible. 

Sabbath-school  teaching  has  undergone  a 
change  for  the  better,  and  yet  it  is  only  the 
specialists,  the  pioneer  thinkers,  who  bring  the 
same  acumen  to  this  work  that  is  so  useful  in 
the  public-schools.  Their  modes,  that  seem  so 
wonderful  by  contrast  with  the  old,  humdrum 
ways  of  Bible  teaching,  do  not  come  from  the 
intuitions  of  genius,  nor  from  a  religious  ecstasy. 
The  love  of  Christ  constrains  them  to  put  forth 
effort,  common  sense  holds  them  to  close 
thought,  and  thus  they  work  out  the  plans  that 
make  the  world-wide  changes  in  Sunday-school 
teaching,  just  as  thinking  wrought  Robert  Ful- 
ton's crude  notions  of  steam  navigation  into  the 
Great  Eastern — a  floating  city.  Any  one  who 
knows  enough  to  be  intrusted  with  the  care  of  a 
school  or  a  class  may  accomplish  similar  results 
if  he  will  give  time  and  earnest,  prayerful  study 
to  this  question :  ' '  How  can  I  give  my  scholars 
the  most  Biblical  truth  in  the  least  time?" 


I 


I 


If 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


Of  all  people  Chnstian  pastors  have  the  greatest 
need  of  strong,  steady  thinking.  There  is  room 
for  improvement  in  every  department  of  their 
labor.  Take  the  prayer-jjieeting,  for  instance. 
Its  outer  mechanism  is  generally  left  to  adjust 
itself.  The  shallow  and  bold  are  often  allowed 
to  crowd  out  the  talented  and  timid.  The 
prayers  may  be  as  long  and  mechanical,  the 
hymns  as  wretchedly  sung  and  tedious,  the  ex- 
hortations as  prosy  and  tiresome  as  dullness  and 
formality  could  desire.  One  needs  a  good  de- 
gree of  piety  to  carry  him  safely  through  some 
Church  prayer-meetings  week  after  week. 

The  young  anfd  moderately  religious,  the  very 
ones  who  most  need  such  means  of  grace,  will 
not  go,  and  there  is  no  use  in  scolding.  The 
only  thing  is  to  set  about  making  the  meetings 
better.  They  can  be  made  as  attractive  as  a 
social  gathering,  if  one  will  take  pains  to  pray 
and  think  out  a  plaa  for  their  proper  manage- 
ment. The  people  hunger  for  spiritual  food. 
There  will  be  no  trouble  about  the  attendance 
upon  the  social  meetings  of  the  Church,  if  they 
are  conducted  in  a  sensible  manner,  and  with 
the  presence  and  help  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 

Some  ministers  run  in  deeply  worn  grooves, 
round  and  round,  year  in  and  year  out,  doing 
exactly  as  they  did  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago, 


9 


I 


THINKtNG. 


73 


;  the  greatest 
lere  is  room 
ent  of  their 
or  instance, 
:ft  to  adjust 
rten  allowed 
imid.  The 
hanicai,  the 
Qus,  the  ex- 
jullness  and 
a  good  de- 
rough  some 
/eek. 

us,  the  very 
grace,  will 
Iding,  The 
le  meetings 
active  as  a 
ns  to  pray 
er  manage- 
itual  food, 
attendance 
rch,  if  they 
,  and  with 
)irit. 

n  grooves, 
out,  doing 
:ntury  ago, 


though  mechanics,  art,  science,  teaching,  every 
thing  is  constantly  advancing 

As  one  of  many  points  in  which  Church 
management  is  a  failure  for  lack  of  sure,  definite 
thought  and  purpose,  we  can  but  notice  the  sing- 
ing. It  has  been  proved  in  these  latter  days 
that  more  truth  can  be  sung  into  the  hearts  of 
the  people  than  they  will  take  from  sermon  or 
exhortation.  Yet,  with  all  its  power  for  good. 
Church  singing  is  often  useless  if  not  positively 
harmful.  It  is  left  to  shamble  along  subject  to 
the  caprice  or  vanity  of  thoughtless,  irreverent 
people.  Worship  is  suspended  while  the  choir 
sings.  If  its  antics  are  not  amusing,  they  are 
immeasurably  tedious.  And  this  is  not  because 
singers  are  more  troublesome  or  less  manageable 
than  other  people.  They  are  quite  like  others  in 
doiiig  a  thing  as  it  pleases  them,  when  they  are 
left  to  choose  their  own  mode. 

To  remedy  this  mischief  random  shots  from 
the  pulpit  will  hardly  answer  in  place  of  well-ma- 
tured plans,  upon  which  kind,  common  sense  can 
bring  all  parties  to  agree. 

In  selecting  the  officiary  of  the  Church  the 
most  careful  thought  is  necessary.  It  would  be 
a  saving  of  time  and  strength  to  think  and  plan 
a  whole  day  over  filling  an  important  office, 
rather  than  to  let  the  matter  drift,  and  then  have 


to  manape  an  unruly  Incumbent,  or  piece  out 
one  that  is  inefficient. 

Any  Christian  to  whom  the  Lord  has  intrusted 
a  responsibility  in  his  work  ought  to  think  what 
is  the  most  possible  to  be  accomplished  in  that 
line,  and  how  the  best  can  be  done  for  the  cause 
he  is  set  to  serve.  With  his  power  to  think  con- 
secrated to  Chriot,  "leaning  not  to  his  own  un- 
derstanding," but  trusting  for  divine  guidance  and 
wisdom,  let  him  study  his  material  and  arrange 
and  dispose  of  it  to  the  best  advantage,  mak- 
ing the  ver>'  most  possible  of  every  opportunity, 
be  it  small  or  great.  Then  having  done  all,  let 
him  trust  for  the  blessing  of  God  without  which 
nothing  can  succeed. 

Some  who  come  to  understand  that  their  fail- 
ure in  Christian  work  is  owing  to  a  lack  of  con- 
secrated thinking,  hope  for  a  better  life  some 
time,  but  they  do  not  comprehend  their  own  re- 
sponsibility in  the  matter,  and  the  need  that  they 
bring  themselves  to  a  broader  efficiency.  They 
wait  for  God  to  send  upon  them  an  immense 
passional  force  that  shall  bear  them  up  to  a 
higher  plane,  sudde.  '>  changing  the  life  to  what 
it  ought  to  be.  They  forgot  that  all  human 
character  is  hinged  upon  human  effort,  that  God 
supplies  the  grace  and  demands  that  we  use  it, 
we  determining  by  our  choice  the  direction  and 


i  II 


or  piece  out 

has  intrusted 
o  tliink  what 
ished  in  that 
for  the  cause 
to  think  con- 
his  own  un- 
guidance  and 
and  arrange 
intage,  mak- 
opportunity, 
done  all,  let 
thout  which 

lat  their  fail- 
lack  of  con- 
:r  life  some 
heir  own  re- 
ed that  they 
ncy.  They 
an  immense 
m  up  to  a 
life  to  what 
all  human 
•t,  that  God 
:  we  use  it, 
rection  and 


THINKING, 


75 


t'.ie  extent  of  the  divine  work.  Otherwise,  the 
Lord,  and  not  we  ourselves,  vould  be  responsi- 
ble for  our  condition. 

'^'•ue  Christian  passivity  is  intensely  active,  and 
while  we  meet  his  requirement  God  never  fails  to 
do  his  part.  When  one  chooses  that  all  his  life 
shall  be  used  in  Christ's  service,  he  will  fir  J  that 
God  works  in  him  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  own 
good  pleasure.  He  will  prove  ultimately  tl'a^ 
the  powers  he  was  at  such  pains  to  wrcncli  from 
their  old  selfish  bias  and  turn  toward  God  are 
by  the  Divine  Father  developed  to  their  best 
strength.  The  Savior  makes  infinitivcly  more  of 
him  than  he  could  make  of  himself;  and  thus  is 
demonstrated  that  word  of  the  Master,  "  He  that 
will  lose  his  life  for  my  sake  shall  save  it," 

Each  talent  given  into  the  Redeemer's  hand 
is  by  his  power  and  providence  brought  to  its 
best  polish  and  strength  and  put  to  the  very 
best  use. 

The  I<o.  of  the  service  sees  to  it  that  no 
work  done  with  a  brave,  ..mgle-eyed  purpose  for 
himself  shall  fail  of  result.  His  word  must  ac- 
complish that  whereunto  he  hath  sent  it. 

The  scattered  thought  may  lie  for  a  thousand 
years  like  the  grains  of  wheat  in  the  mummy's 
hand,  yet  if  it  lias  in  it  the  vitality  of  God's 
truth,  it  must  spnig  up  when  the  hour  comes  for 


! 


^awar  .r8aftMMi!^<iHwiii'#i*»>awwiii»rt)l<i^*>«Miin»w 


76 


DIAMOND  DUST, 


it  to  Iiave  liglu  and  warmth  and  room,  bearing 
a  plenteous  harvest  of  good. 

Let  Christian  tljougUt  be  thoroughly  cultured 
and  completely  consecrated <  to  the  divine  service, 
and  the  time  will  not  be  far  distant  when  the 
Church  shall  move  forth,  "bright  as  the  sun.  fair 
as  the  moon,  and  terrible  as  an  army  with 
banners." 

Then  vill  dawn  the  golden  day  of  peace,  when 

"  The  Inst  man  shall  stand  Godconqiiered, 
With  his  fac«  to  heaven  upturned," 


9 


room,  bearing 

uglily  cultured 
divine  service, 
ant  when  the 
s  the  sun,  fair 
m    army    with 

•f  peace,  when 

qiiereil, 

I." 


MARKIUD  PKOPLB. 


11 


C*ONSECRATED  thinking  may  yet  master 
''  all  problems  of  destiny. 

Thought  has  already  wrought  marvels  in  the 
material  world.  Phenomena  that  used  to  set 
men  shivering  and  cowering  because  they  were 
believed  to  be  the  work  of  demons,  have  been 
found  to  be  only  the  result  of  natural  law. 

In  the  older,  more  ignorant  days,  if  an  eclipse 
darkened  the  sun,  or  a  tornado  slipped  its  leash, 
or  an  earthquake  moved  forth  in  deadly  might, 
the  scared  people  imagined  that  dragons  were 
devouring  the  worlds. 

In  this  braver  time  science  springs  into  the 
path  of  ruin  wrought  by  the  cataclysm,  gathers 
its  facts,  finds  its  law,  and  guards  against  its 
return. 

In  the  thinker's  laboratory  has  been  wrought 
out  the  wondrous  mechanism  that  whispers  from 
continent  to  continent,  that  makes  patient  draft- 
horses  of  fire  and  flood,  that  thrusts  famine  and 
pestilence  and  war  back  to  their  dens.     In  that 


same  laboratory,  by  God's  blessing,  must  order 
and  well-being  be  evolved  from  the  moral  chaos, 
As  the  problem  of  bringing  erratic  physical 
forces  mto  harmonious  action  has  lost  much  of  ( 
its  ruggedness  and  difficulty,  so  the  inscrutable 
ethical  questions  that  have  loomed  so  hope- 
lessly in  the  path  of  all  who  have  wrought  for 
the  world's  bettering,  are  giving  way  before  ear- 
nest thinking,  patient  toiling,  and  steady  faith 
for  divine  aid. 

Evils  that  seemed  as  itiscrutable  and  inexor- 
able as  destiny,  grinding  to  powder  the  heart 
and  hope  of  millions,  have  been  analyzed  by 
philosophic  thought.  The  mischievous  principle 
has  been  discovered  and  its  elimination  made 
possible. 

In  reformatory,  as  well  as  in  mechanical  en- 
deavor, thinkers  have  stumbled  over  the  sim- 
plicity of  the  right  formula. 

The  old  Greeks,  of  whom  Plotinus  said, 
' '  They  used  to  get  out  of  their  bodies  to  think, " 
wrought  their  best  upon  the  questions  of  moral 
renovation.  The>^  move  our  pity— those  men  of 
peerless  intellect  standing,  as  Dante  saw  them 
ni  his  dream,  "with  calm,  slow  eyes"  fixed  on 
the  unyielding  problem.  They  failed  always  in 
their  studies  of  art,  letters,  and  law  touching  the  ' 
moral  and  social  life.     They  fumbled  in  vain  for 


■9 


ig,  must  order 
;  moral  chaos, 
rratic  physical 
lost  much  of 
lie  inscrutable 
led  so  hope- 
J  wrought  for 
ay  before  ear- 
steady  faith 

B  and  incxor- 
ier  the  heart 
analyzed  by 
/ous  principle 
ination  made 

echanical  en- 
ver  the  sim- 

*lotinus  said, 
ies  to  think," 
ons  of  moral 
those  men  of 
te  saw  them 
5s"  fixed  on 
ed  always  in 
touching  the 
d  in- vain  for 


MARRIED  PEOPLE. 


19 


the  mainspring  of  the  regenerated  civilization. 
It  is  revealed  by  Christianity  alone.  It  is  noth- 
ing more  and  nothing  less  than  hottor  and  integ- 
rity in  the  homes  of  the  peotle. 

Aristotle  was  within  touch  of  the  secret.  He 
declared  the-  family  to  be  the  type  of  the  state, 
thus  almost  guessing  its  tremendous  import.  If 
the  mighty  Stagyrite  had  taken  another  step  and 
taught  that  the  purity  of  the  family  is  the  power 
of  the  state,  if  he  had  found  the  divine  method 
of  cleansing  that  fountain  of  social  activities, 
making  ean  the  homes  of  the  race,  and  if  his 
dicta  had  been  accepted  in  morals,  as  in  logic, 
the  gloomiest,  bloodiest  pag?s  of  history  would 
have  been  spared. 

Pliny  said  there  would  be  no  state  if  there 
were  no  family ;  an  utterance  that  touches  like  the 
flicker  of  a  taper  the  dense  darkness  that  en- 
shrouded his  magnificent  Rome. 

Wolsey  says  that  Rome  rose  by  the  sanctity 
of  the  family  life  and  fell  when  that  sanctity  was 
undermined. 

In  the  purifying  of  the  home  sanctuary  is 
found  the  solution  of  that  problem  of  the  ages — 
the  bringing  into  right  lines  of  the  immense  eth- 
ical forces  that  have  run  riot,  working  such  hope- 
less, reckless  ruin,  such  boundless  wrong  and 
outrage. 


li 


(Lii! 


Silr 


'M.  ; 


lr 


11 


80 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


The  family  can  not  be  pure  unless  it  is  per- 
manent, and  its  permanence  depends  upon  the 
permanence  of  marriage. 

Christianity  alone  makes  provision  for  the  per- 
manence  of  marriage,  because  of  all  religions  it 
alone  teaches  the  inherent  dignity  of  humanity 
and  the  sacredness  of  inalienable  human  rights 
.  Marriage  is  of  God.     Jehovah  united  the  first 
pair.     He  put  to  sleep  his  masterpiece,  the  won- 
derful complex  being  he  had   made  in  his  own 
image,  and  wakened  them  to  the  happiness  of 
shared  work  and  joy;  as  if  he  had  made  tangi- 
ble  the  gentler  and  more  enduring  part  of  human 
nature,  clothing  it  in  separate  flesh  that  it  might 
stand  forth  helping  and  helped,  bone  of  man's 
bones,  life  of  his  life. 

In  the  writings  of  the  great  apostle  we  find 
an  amphfication  of  the  divine  idea.  "He  that 
loveth  his  wife  loveth  himself;  for  no  man  ever 
yet  hated  his  own  flesh,  but  nourisheth  and  c!.er- 
isheth  it,  even  as  the  Lord  the  Church." 

The  Gospel  rule  of  domestic  life  is  above  crit- 
icism. "Husbands,  love  your  wives  even  as 
Christ  also  loved  the  Church  and  gave  himself 
for  It.  So  ought  men  to  love  their  wives  as  their 
own  bodies.  For  this  cause  shall  a  man  leave 
his  father  and  mother  and  shall  be  joined  unto 
hi^   wife,    and    thdy   two    shall    be    one  flesh 


inless  it  is  per- 
pends upon  the 

sion  for  the  per- 
"  all  rehgions  it 
y  of  humanity, 
human  rights, 
united  the  first 
piece,  the  won- 
ide  in  his  own 
2  happiness  of 
id  made  tangi- 
part  of  human 
1  that  it  might 
l>one  of  man's 

postle  we  find 
a.  "He  that 
■  no  man  ever 
heth  and  c!.er- 
urch." 

:  is  above  crit- 
nves  even  as 
gave  himself 
wives  as  their 
a  man  leave 
;  joined  unto 
e    one   flesh. 


MARRIED  PEOPLE, 


8i 


Let  every  one  of  you  in  particular  so  love  his 
wife  even  as  himself,  and  the  wife  see  that  she 
reverence  her  husband." 

In  all  lands  where  the  Bible  has  Httle  or  no 
power,  the  permanence  and  purity  of  the  home 
are  hardly  known.  Wherever  Jehovah's  will  is 
not  recognized  as  law,  the  marriage  tie  is  a  mere 
financial  adjustment;  men  and  women  join  them- 
selves to  each  other  from  iaipulse,  and  separate 
by  caprice. 

No  doubt  there  is  a  constant  infringement  of 
the  husband's  claim  to  reverence  and  love 
Probably  he  is  cheated  out  of  all  those  delicate, 
refinmg  attentions  that  go  to  make  the  best  of 
life— that  that  we  live  when  the  public  eye  is  not 
"pon  us,  and  we  are  simply  and  only  ourselves 
Yet,  as  the  condition  of  the  woman  is  the  more 
gross  and  appreciable  exponent  of  the  wrong, 
of  that  we  usually  speak. 

Among  pagans  the  wife  is  bought  and  sold— 
the  slave  of  man's  lust  or  of  his  greed.  Men 
hold  thu-.v^elves  above  moral  restraint,  and  re- 
ijard  women  as  existing  simply  for  their  service 
and  comiort. 

Among  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  even  when 
tV  .■-  peoples  were  at  their  best,  the  woman 
might  not  have  a  thought  above  her  distaff. 
She  v.'.is  tho  true  woman  who  waited  only  upon 

6 


;i    I 


h 


a  li 


DIAMOND  DUST 

the  pleasure  of  her  lord,  holding  her  love  sacred 
to  him,  living  or  dead,  as  did  Penelope  while  the 
vagrant  Ulysses  wandered,  heart  and  foot,  at  his 
own  sweet  will. 

Caesar's  wife  must  be  above  suspicion,  though 
the  private  morals  of  that  same  Caesar,  "the 
foremost  man  of  all  the  world,"  were  too  Scan- 
dalous  for  record.  A  married  \>^oman  must  sac- 
rifice herself  in  utter  disconsolateness  at  her  hus- 
band's death,  though  he  had  given  a  dozen  othti' 
women  a  full  share  of  his  love. 

Christianity  alone  gives  a  woman  the  right  to 
demand  honor  for  honor,  purity  for  purity. 

Only  the  religion  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
places  the  woman,  where  Margaret  Fuller  said 
she  must  stand  to  give  her  hand  with  dignity, 
"fairly  upon  her  feet."  You  look  in  vain 
among  the  golden  thoughts  of  the  "Divine 
Plato"  for  one  syllable  that  helps  a  woman  to- 
ward the  starting-point  that  the  Hebrew  Bible 
gfave  her  — "a  helpmeet  for  man." 

When  Socrates  was  turning  his  steady  eyes 
upon  death,  and  giving  forth  some  of  the  finest 
utterances  that  ever  fell  from  his  lips,  in  that 
supreme  hour  when  his  heart  ought  to  have  been 
most  tender,  he  turned  from  his  weeping  wife 
with  a  contemptuous  fling  at  the  weakness  and 
silliness  of  women. 


4 


MARRIED  PEOPLE, 


83 


her  love  sacred 
elope  while  the 
and  foot,  at  his 

ispicion,  though 
e  Caesar,  "the 
were  too  Scan- 

» 

oman  must  sac- 
less  at  her  hus- 
1  a  dozen  othci' 

tan  the  right  to 
r  purity, 
rd  Jesus  Christ 
ret  Fuller  said 
d  with  dignity, 
look  in  vain 
f  the  "Divine 
IS  a  woman  to- 
Hebrew  Bible 

lis  steady  eyeS 
ne  of  the  finest 
is  lips,  in  that 
ht  to  have  been 
3  weeping  wife 
i  weakness  and 


Hebrew   women    towered    like   desert    palms 
above  those  of  the   heathen   nations   by  whom 
they  were  surrounded— Sarah,  empress-like  in  her 
beauty  and  strength ;  Rachel,  whose  life  was  so 
pure  it  stood  the  test  of  a  seven  years'  courtship, 
"and  it  seemed  to  Jacob  but  a  few  days  for  the 
love  he  had  for  her;"   Miriam,  who  made  the 
songs   of   her  people   while    her  brothers   were 
getting  its  laws  from  God;  Jael,  who  delivered 
her  nation   by  killing  the  generalissimo  of  the 
enemy's  forces;  Deborah,  who  administered  law 
and  led  armies;  Esther,  the  beautiful  diplomate, 
who  saved  her  race  from  the  in.pending  doom. 
Solomon,  that  pioneer  of  Jewish  literati,  gives  us 
the   Biblical  model  of  feminine  character.     The 
picture  is  drawn  with  Rembrandt  strokes.     Com- 
pare it  with  those  in  the  Vedas  and  Shasters. 
They  teach    that   a  woman    is   inherently  vile. 
She  was  so  bad  a  man  in  some  past  statt  of 
existence  that  she  has  been  born  a  vraman  as  a 
punishment. 

The  books  of  all  non-Christiar  writers  abound 
in  proverbs  about  the  intrinsic  and  hopeless  de- 
pravity of  woman.  The  Hebrew  philosopher 
shows  his  belief  in  the  opposite.  He  speaks  of 
the  virtuous  woman  as  if  she  were  not  only  a 
possible  idea,  but  an  actual  person.  He  sketches 
from    life.      She  is   industrious.     "She  seeketh 


MIT 


'       ! 
I 


DIAMOND  DUST. 

wool  and  flax,  and  worketh  willingly  with  her 
hands,"  "She  riseth  while  it  is  yet  night  and 
giveth  meat  to  her  household,  and  a  portion  to 
her  maidens." 

She  is  a  business  woman.  "She  maketh  fine 
linen  and  selleth  it.  She  delivereth  girdles  to 
the  merchant.  She  perceiveth  that  her  mer- 
chandise is  good." 

She  understands  the  laws  that  underlie  the 
rise  and  fall  of  real  estate,  for  "she  considereth 
a  ikld  and  buyeth  it." 

She  is  any  thing  but  feeble-minded,  for 
"strength  and  honor  are  her  clothing," 

Slw  knows  something  and  Ccin  tell  it  in  a 
wise  way,  for  "she  openeth  her  mouth  with 
wisdom,  and  in  her  tongue  is  the  law  of 
kindness." 

She  is  benevolent.  "She  stretcheth  out  her 
hands  to  the  poor;  yea,  she  reacheth  out  her 
hands  to  the  needy." 

She  cares  personally  for  the  comfort  of  a 
well-managed  home.  "She  looketh  well  to  the 
way  of  her  household." 

She  has  a  happy  family  life.  "Her  children 
arise  up  and  call  her  blessed;  her  husband,  also, 
and  he  praiseth  her." 

Her  piety  is  the  crowning  glory  of  her  life. 
"Favor  is  deceitful,  and  beauty  is  vain,  but  the 


MARRIED  PEOPLE. 


85 


IHngly  with  her 
s  yet  night  and 
lid  a  portion  to 

she  maketh  fine 

;reth  girdles  to 

that   her   mer- 

lat  underlie  the 
she  considereth 

ble-minded,    for 

hing." 

iin  tell  it  in  a 

er  nrouth   with 

s    the    law    of 

jtcheth  out  her 
acheth  out  her 

;  comfort  of  a 
eth  well  to  the 

"Her  children 
-  husband,  also, 

ory  of  her  lift, 
is  vain,  but  the 


wonDan    that    feareth    the    Lord,   she    shall    be 
praised." 

The  degenerate  Judaism  of  Christ's  time 
had  swung  far  enough  away  from  the  divine 
ideal.  Its  rabbis  said,  "He  is  a  fool  that  at- 
tempts the  religious  instruction  of  a  woman;" 
and  "Let  the  words  of  the  law  be  burned  rather 
than  given  to  a  woman." 

Paul,  whose  utterances  on  this  subject  have 
been  wrested  by  the  unlearned  and  unstable  to 
ihe  destruction  of  thousands  of  souls, — Paul  gives 
an  epitome  of  his  belief  in  this  sentence:  "There 
is  neither  Jew  nor  Greek,  there  is  neither  bond 
nor  free,  there  is  neither  male  nor  female ;  for  ye 
are  all  one  in  Christ  Jesus."  When  the  Chris- 
tian Church  cuts  down  through  gloss  and  preju- 
dice to  the  core  of  the  meaning  of  that  utter- 
ance we  may  look  for  the  millennium. 

The  retrograde  Christianity  of  the  dark  ages 
shut  woman  out  of  the  world  of  sober  thought 
and  earnest  endeavor,  making  her  a  drudge,  or, 
at  her  best  estate,  a  dainty  plaything,  on  account 
of  whose  personal  charms  daft  wights  should 
write  wretched  rhymes,  or  doughty  knights 
break  each  other's  skulls. 

In  the  sixteenth  century  Francoise  de  Sain- 
toigne  attempted  to  establish  primary  schools  for 
girls.     She  was  hooted  in  the  streets  of  Paris, 


^M^^^^ife'^l^i'^^^^H^I^^Ml^^'/l 


1^  "tl 


^     III 
<i    ,ll 


|:t 


f 


DIAMOND  DUST. 

and  her  father  called  in  four  doctors  learned  in 
the  law  to  sit  in  solemn  conclave  upon  her  terri- 
ble heresy,  and  decide  whether  or  not  the  mis- 
guided woman  were  possessed  with  devils, 
prompting  her  unheard  of  and  dangerous  scheme 
of  teaching  girls  to  read! 

In  the  eighteenth  century  Dean  Swift  wrote 
his  "Letter  to  a  young  lady  on  her  marriage" — 
a  piece  of  literature  which  was  received  without 
dissent  as  an  excellent  bit  of  advice  to  a  young 
gentlewoman.  He  says  "It  is  a  little  hard  that 
not  one  gentlemen's  daughter  in  a  thousand 
should  be  brought  to  read  or  understand  her 
own  natural  tongue.  But  it  is  no  wv>r  der  when 
they  are  not  so  much  as  taught  to  spell  in  their 
childhood,  nor  can  they  ever  attain  to  it  in  their 
whole  lives.  I  know  very  well  that  those  who 
are  commonly  called  learned  women  have  lost 
all  manner  of  credit  by  their  impertinent  talka- 
tiveness. But  there  is  an  easy  remedy  for  this 
if  you  once  consider,  after  all  the  pains  you  may 
be  at,  you  never  can  arrive  in  point  of  learning 
to  the  perfection  of  a  school-boy.  Your  sex 
give  more  thought  and  application  to  be  fools 
than  to  be  wise  and  useful.  When  I  reflect  on 
this,  I  can  not  conceive  you  to  be  human  crea- 
tures, but  a  certain  sort  of  species  hardly  above 
a  monkey,  who  has  more  diverting  tricks  than 


tl_l^;(lMiH»«ir    > 


MARRIED  PEOPLE. 


87 


ctors  learned  in 
upon  her  terri- 
er not  the  mis- 
i  with  devils, 
ngerous  scheme 

;an  Swift  wrote 
er  marriage"— 
!ceived  without 
/ice  to  a  young 
little  hard  that 
in  a  thousand 
understand  her 
J  wv>r  der  when 
;o  spell  in  their 
in  to  it  in  their 
that  those  who 
)men  have  lost 
pertinent  talka- 
emedy  for  this 
pains  you  may 
>int  of  learning 
)y.  Your  sex 
jn  to  be  fools 
en  I  reflect  on 
>e  human  crea- 
ks hardly  above 
ing  tricks  than 


any  of  you,  is  an  animal  less  mischievous  and 
expensive,  might,  in  time,  be  a  tolerable  critic  in 
velvet  and  brocade,  and  for  aught  I  know  would 
equally  become  them." 

Phidias  said  of  his  statue  of  Minerva,  "  Give 
it  the  light  of  the  public  square."  In  giving  this 
question  the  light  of  the  centuries  we  find  that 
in  no  land  or  time  in  all  this  sorrowful  world 
has  there  ever  been  hope  or  heart  for  women 
except  as  the  religion  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
has  borne  sway.  Women  never  had  and  never 
can  have  a  firmer,  better  friend  than  the  Son  of 
Mary.  Of  all  systems  of  philosophic  and  relig- 
ious thought  none  has  given  her  the  place  ac- 
corded to  her  by  Protestant  Christianity.  They 
who  strike  at  the  Church  because  some  of  its  lim- 
itations are  faulty  and  irksome,  are  like  the  An- 
cient Mariner  who  shot  the  albatross.  They  will 
bring  down  upon  themselves  a  doom  more  bitter 
than  death,  that  of  the  abominable  old  sensualisms. 

The  Bible  is  woman's  Magna  Charta,  and  it 
is  worse  than  suicide  for  her  to  set  aside  its  pure, 
high  truths. 

Marriage  is  a  Biblical  institution.  The  home 
is  found  only  in  Christian  lands.  Without  Scrip- 
tural guards  a  woman's  life  is  poor  and  petty  and 
pitiful  enough.  The  woman  who  has  sufficient 
moral  dignity  to  desire  to  be  nobly  and  truly  her- 


I 

.     I 


li  I 


DIAMOND  DUST, 

self,  and  enough  insight  to  see  where  the  dan{,'er 
lies,  must  cherish  Christianity  as  she  would  her 
own  life— nay,  Jier  own  soul. 

While  the  permanence  of  marriage  may  be 
nullified  by  the  degradation  of  women,  it  is  at- 
tacked no  less  fatefully/n>/«  another  quarter. 
.      Before  the  abolition  of  slavery   a   southern 
lady  wrote:    "We    women  of    the  South   are 
nierely  the  heads  of  harems."     It  was  a  fearful 
thing  for  slave- women  to  be  at  the  mercy  of  the 
lust  of  their  masters.     It  was  a  no  less  fearful 
thing  for  the  civilization  and  the  home  that  the 
masters   were  thus    rendered   liable   to  a  devel- 
opment  of   the   low,   the   sensual,   the  animal. 
Thoughtful,  Christian  people  in   the  South  saw 
with  the  utmost  pain  the  danger  to  free  institutions 
from  this  terrible  maladjustment.    Where  the  mis- 
chief was  allowed  to  enter  a  household  the  har- 
mony and  confidence  necessary  to  a  happy  home 
were  at  an  end.     It  did  not  need  the  genius  of  a 
Fanny  Kemble  for  a  woman  to  understand  the 
cheat  of  giving  her  whole  self  to  a  man,  while 
he  divided  his  love  between  a  legal  family  and 
two  or  three  others  not  recognized  by  law. 

Thus  servitude  avenges  itself.  The  very  pres- 
ence of  a  subject  class  leads  to  "k  most  harmful 
development  of  character  in  those  for  whose  com- 
fort the  lower  are  deprived  of  natural  rights.     As 


i  :l 


Hi 


MARRIED  PEOPLE. 


89 


here  the  danger 
she  would  her 

arrlage  may  be 
vomen,  it  is  at- 
her  quarter. 
:ry   a   southern 
tlie  South    are 
t  was  a  fearful 
e  mercy  of  the 
no  less  fearful 
home  that  the 
)le  to  a  devel- 
il,   the  animal, 
the  South  saw 
free  institutions 
Where  the  mis- 
sehold  the  har- 
a  happy  home 
the  genius  of  a 
understand  the 
a  man,  while 
jal  family  and 
I  by  law. 
The  very  pres- 
most  harmful 
or  whose  com- 
al  rights.     As 


"mercy  blesseth  him  that  gives  and  him  that 
takes,"  so   domestic  wrongs  curse  the  doer  as 
heavily  as  the  immediate  sufferer  tiierefrom. 
Pagan  men  have  proved  this  by  the  ut^.er  'v 
all  the  "small,  sweet  courtesies,"  the  te  itlvs, 
■au'  '"ul,  bracing  home  atmosphere  fron-    v'iiicl* 
ia.    goes  forth  to  face  the  rough,  bad  world, 
red,  invulnerable  as  Achilles  was  when  his 
motlicr  dipped  him  in  the  Styx. 

Whoever  holds  another  from  a  God-given 
right  is  guilty,  not  only  of  a  crime  against  his 
victim,  he  sins  most  egregiously  against  himself. 
If  he  uses  the  power  given  him  in  his  own  do- 
mestic circle  to  perpetrate  an  injury  that  he 
would  by  no  means  endure  from  another,  his  sin 
is  suicidal.  He  may  be  as  handsome  as  a  Turk, 
as  proud  as  a  Spanish  grandee,  as  gifted  as  Lord 
Byron,  as  superbly  selfish  as  Napoleon,  yet  he  is 
stabbing  to  the  heart  the  purity  of  his  manhood, 
the  integrity  of  his  moral  nature,  and  rendering 
impossible  the  best  that  this  life  can  give  him, 
the  permanence  and  excellence  of  marriage  and 
,a  home. 

The  mischief  wrought  in  domestic  life  by 
pride  and  passion  does  not  stop  with  destroying 
the  dignity  of  marriage.  It  is  felt  throughout 
the  community  and  the  state.  The  vanity  and 
insolence  developed  by  being  allowed  to  lord  it 


90 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


\  •   I 


over  others,  can  but  result  in  civil  and  national 
broils,  brawls,  and  wars.     The  man  who  is  accus- 
tomed to  have  his  way.  w      .  er  it  »  .•  reasonable 
or  sottish,  is  not  likely  to  have  himself  well  in 
hand  in  a  diplomatic  encounter.     A  government 
\\\  the  hands  of  such  statesmen  is  in  danger  of 
constant  entanglements  and   embroglios.      The 
man  who  does  not  respect  the  rights  of  those 
upon  whom  he  can  trample  with  impunity  can 
not  be  trusted  to  legislate  upon  the  destinies  of 
thousands  who  are  at  his  mercy.     In  proof  of 
this  turn  to  those  pages  o^  history  that   record 
the  growth  and  decay  of  th.a  magnificent  Persia, 
of  the  Roman  Empire,  of  the  Saracenic  domina'- 
tion,   of  the  rich  old   East  Indian   civilization 
Selfgovernment  is  at  the  base  of  ability  to  gov- 
cm  others. 

It  was  not  a  mere  accident  that  the  apostle 
enjoined  domestic  purity  and  integrity  upon  the 
men  who  were  to  hold  office  in  the  Church,  over- 
seeing her  interests  and  shaping  her  polity.  "A 
bishop  then  must  be  blameless,  the  husband  of 
one  wife,  vigilant,  sober,  of  good  behavior,  given 
to  hospitality,  apt  to  teach,  not  given  to  wine, 
no  strilcer.  not  greedy  of  filthy  lucre  ;  but  patient! 
not  a  brawler,  not  covetous ;  one  that  ruleth  his 
own  house,  having  his  children  in  subjection  with 
all  gravity  (for  if  a  man  know  not  how  to  rule 


ivll  and  national 
an  who  is  acciis- 
It  V  •  reasonable 
himself  well  in 
A  government 
is  in  danger  of 
ibroglios.       The 
rights  of  those 
h  impunity  can 
the  destinies  of 
In   proof  of 
)ry  that  record 
Efnificent  Persia, 
racenic  domina- 
an   civilization. 
"  ability  to  gov- 

hat  the  apostle 
grity  upon  the 
e  Church,  over- 
er  polity.  "A 
he  husband  of 
behavior,  given 
given  to  wine, 
•e ;  but  patient, 
that  ruleth  his 
subjection  with 
>t  how  to  rule 


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r 


MARRIED  PEOPLE. 


91 


his  own  house,  how  shall  he  take  care  of  the 
Church  of  God)."  Before  he  can  rule  others  he 
must  iearn  to  hold  a  tight  rein  upon  his  own 
passions.  They  who  are  accustomed,  in  little 
matters,  and  when  free  from  outside  restraint,  to 
respect  fully  the  individuality  and  all  personal 
rights  of  others,  can  hardly  fail  of  probity  in 
public  affairs. 

Plenty  of  nonsense  has  been  uttered  and 
written  upon  the  equality  and  inequality  of  the 
sexes.  Probably  a  logical  adjustment  of  this 
question  is  impossible,  as  it  is  based  upon  the 
comparison  of  things  that  may  not  be  compared. 
As  well  may  we  attempt  to  measure  mathemati- 
cally the  difference  between  color  and  sound,  the 
fragrance  of  roses  and  the  sheen  of  stars  or 
other  incompatible  conditions. 

If  women  reverence  their  husbands  .  the 
Scriptures  enjoin,  and  ftien  love  their  wives  as 
Christ  loved  the  Church,  each  will  second  the 
efforts  of  the  other  to  make  the  most  of  any 
special  gifts  that;  may  help  the  general  good. 
The  wife  will  not  say,  "It  is  for  my  personal 
comfort  to  have  you  devote  yourself  to  money- 
making,  so  yoj  must  thrust  aside  that  artistic  or 
intellectual  or  benevolent  ability  that  seems  to 
dominate  your  character.  You  must  not  write 
or  paint  or  preach  as  you  believe  you  ought  to 


iff' 


i 


M 


99 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


do.     You  must  make  money  to  keep  me  and 
my  children  in  ease  and  elegance." 

The  result  of  a  domestic  council  upon  the 
case  may  bring  out  the  fact  that,  while  he  has 
the  soul  of  sensibility,  the  fervor  of  spirit  that 
•.night  make  him  abundantly  helpful  as  a  moral 
leader,  he  lacks  lIic  practical  ability  that  gets 
one  comfortably  ready  for  pay-day— an  ability 
that,  for  some  wise  purpose,  she  has  in  full 
measure.  Then  she  will  take  the  commissary 
department  while  he  devotes  himself  to  the  work 
for  which  he  was  especially  intended. 

On  the  other  hand,  he  will  not  say,  "These 
buttons  must  be  kept  securely  sewed  on,  though 
your  poem  be  never  written,  though  your  book 
wither  and  die  in  your  brain,  your  benevolent 
scheme  never  find  opportunity  or  use.  Ten 
thousand  souls  whom  your  voice  ought  to  warn 
of  the  wrath  to  come  may  stumble  on  in  dark- 
ness to  death,  rather  than  that  my  coffee  should 
lack  the  amber  clearness  your  talent  might  give 
it,  or  my  dinner  the  epicureain  relish  that  your 
abundant  energy  might  plan  for  my  comfort." 

The  true  equality,  that  of  the  Golden  Rule,  is 
not  so  very  difficult  to  attain  w>«et  '"hrist's  Gos- 
pel has  a  chance  at  the  lives  of  <  :id  women. 
Under  that  principle,  marriage  is  co  neither  a 
sacrifice,  but  a  girding  o-   the  surest  strength. 


■mm^ 


&^^M4S^^^^S^' 


iiiiifiWiii 


MARRIED  PEOPLE. 


93 


keep  me  and 

incil  upon  the 
,  while  he  has 
•  of  spirit  that 
iful  as  a  moral 
ility  that  gets 
lay — an  ability 
\it  has  in  full 
lie  commissary 
elf  to  the  work 
led. 

)t  say,  "These 
ved  on,  though 
ugh  your  book 
our  benevolent 
or  use.  Ten 
ought  to  warn 
)le  on  in  dark- 
y  coffee  should 
ent  might  give 
elish  that  your 
ny  comfort." 
Golden  Rule,  is 
'I  '^hrist's  Gos- 
:id  women. 
IS  CO  neither  a 
iurest  strength. 


The  home  will  stand  pure  and  strong  and  glori-  ■ 
ous,  the  very  bulwark  of  the  civilization  and  of 
godliness. 

Marriage  is  usually  necessary  to  roundness 
and  completeness  of  character.  Each  life  needs 
^  another  to  which  it  may  be  joined  by  an  un- 
breakable bond  supplementing  its  lack  by  add- 
ing the  quality  or  grace  in  which  it  is  deficient. 
The  timid  man  or  woman  must  be  united  to  the 
courageous,  the  brusque  to  the  gentle.  Joined, 
they  make  a  completed  life,  each  doing  the  bet- 
ter work  for  the  influence  of  the  other,  each 
working  freely  to  the  law  of  his  or  her  being, 
each  following  the  will  of  God  and  working  to 
his  purpose. 

There  may  be  those  to  whom  it  is  given  to 
remain  single  for  the  sake  of  special  personal 
responsibility  with  which  marriage  c  uld  but  in- 
terfere seriously,  but  there  can  hardly  be  a  more 
harmful  fallacy  than  that  marriage  is  opposed  to 
holiness,  and  that  they  who  would  be  specially 
devoted  to  God's  work  must  keep  themselves 
aloof  from  its  entanglements.  The  Romish 
Church  has  committed  its  religious  services  to 
an  army  of  celibates.  It,  is,  consequently  a 
strong  political  and  militant  organization,  but, 
in  meeting  the  spiritual  needs  of  its  communi- 
cants, it  is  ai:  utter  failure.     Better  a  thousand 


15* 


94 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


times  that  its  host  of  ghostly  old  rtiaids  and 
bachelors  follow  the  example  of  the  monk  Mar- 
tin, when  he  gave  the  sweet  little  nun,  Katie 
Von  Bora,  a  legal  right  to  fill  with  rest  and  sun- 
shine the  stronghold  where  he  retreated  when 
hard  pressed  by  the  outside  conflict,  teaching 
thus  by  example  as  well  as  by  precept  how  to 
do  that  most  godly  thing,  the*  making  of  a  pure, 
noble  home. 

There  are  also  widowed  hearts  whose  love 
lies  in  the  dust  of  the  sepulcher,  and  who  ad- 
just themselves  to  their  loss  as  one  does  who 
has  parted  with  an  arm.  Possibly  marriage  bells 
never  chimed  for  them,  but  their  hearts  know 
the  rest  that  comes  only  from  the  joining  of  two 
lives  that  are  "meant  for  each  other." 

Marriage  adds  to  the  moral  strength,  instead 
of  lessening  it,  but  that  this  may  be  so  neither 
must  claim  dictatorship.  Each  must  respect  in 
the  other  the  ultimate  supremacy  and  responsi- 
bility of  the  soul's  choice. 

But  how  seldom  do  we  see  wrought  out  this 
divine  ideal.  How  wretchedly  have  sin  and 
selfishness  wrenched  out  of  all  form  and  comeli- 
ness this  good  intention  of  the  kind  God;  and 
what  worlds  of  mischief  grow  out  of  the  sad 
mistake! 

Multitudes  are  fastened  together  for  conven- 


'ilrfinSI'iSii^Si^fi^ 


wm^ 


m 


MARRIED  PEOPLE. 


95 


eld  ifiaids  and 
the  monk  Mar- 
tie  nun,  Katie 
\  rest  and  sun- 
etreated  when 
ifltct,  teaching 
(recept  how  to 
:ing  of  a  pure, 

ts  whose  love 
and  who  ad- 
one  does  who 
marriage  bells 
•  hearts  know 
joining  of  two 
er." 

ength,  instead 
be  so  neither 
ust  respect  in 
and  responsi- 

tught  out  this 
lave  sin  and 
n  and  comeli- 
!nd  God;  and 
t  of  the  sad 

!r  for  conven- 


ience or  pride,  by  diplomacy  or  avarice,  really 
living,  as  blunt  old  Dr.  Clarke  has  it,  in  "legal- 
ized adultery." 

Many  others  who  seemed  at  first  well  mated 
have   grown    into    such    coldness   toward   each 
other,  we  can  but  conclude  they  would  be  glad 
to  be  free.     We  can  almost  tell  the  number  of 
their   married   years    by   the   distance   between 
them— husband  and  wife.     What  a  disappoint- 
ment!    Instead  of  the  expected  paradise,  only  a 
desert   of   indifference!     They   are   obliged    to 
speak    across    this   waste,    arranging    monetary 
matters.     Now  and  then  they  catch  a  glimps  of 
each  other  as  they  kneel  side  by  side  in  the 
worship  of  God.     The  Lord  winds  the  love  of 
little  children  around  their  hearts  to  draw  them 
together.     Their  tears  mingle  beside  dying  beds. 
They  clasp  hands  by  little  graves,  where  seems 
to  be  buried  the  heart  of  each.     Yet,  in  spite  of 
all,  they  drift  further  and  further  apart— he  mar- 
ried to  his  business  or  his  ambition ;  she,  to  her 
babies,  her  housekeeping,  or  society.     All  those 
kindly  glances,  those  touches  of  hand  and  lip, 
those  gentle,  loving  attentions  that  were  to  have 
been  the  dessert  of  each  day's  fare,  are  foigottea 
or   laughed   at   as   school-boy   poetry,   or,   like 
faded  flowers  from  coffin  lids,  they  are  sighed 
over  in  secret.     The  twain  grow  old  and  die 


9*  DIAMOND  DUST. 

Utter  strangers  to  each  other's  real  life,  alto- 
getiier  unaware  of  the  strength  and  happiness 
they  have  missed  by  not  living  and  loving  as 
married  people  ought  to  do. 

But  this  negative,  this  starving,  is  not  the 
worst  side  of  the  mischief.  The  positive  danger 
is  far  greater.  Satan  is  not  slow  to  bring  in  a 
brood  of  lawless  loves  to  poison  and  destroy  the 
hungry  heart.  If  the  affections  of  one  wander 
wickedly  sometimes  the  other  is  to  blame.  One 
is  careless  of  the  domestic  bond  because  the 
other  is  selfish  or  cold,  heartless  or  hateful. 

Great  harm  comes  to  the  children  who  are 
born  into  such  families.  When  the  household 
loves  are  frost-bitten,  lio  brown-stone  elegance  can 
supply  the  lack  of  heart-warmth.  From  those 
frigid  mausoleums  daughters  hurry  off  to  find 
elsewhere  what  they  have  missed  at  home,  and 
sons  are  easily  lured  into  tlie  b)'-ways  of  Hell  I 
The  children  of  such  families  not  unfrequently 
grow  up  in  doubt  of  the  possibility  of  home- 
happiness,  and  conclude  to  repeat  their  parents' 

blunder,  and  settle   into  domestic   mummies 

their  only  relief,  a  costly  embalming ! 

Married  people  can  ill  afford  to  freeze  each 
other  and  ruin  their  children  by  their  bickerings. 
Each  icicle  that  falls  between  them,  like  the 
dragons'  teeth  sown  by  Cadmus,  will  spring  up 


Tilfiiifiii^^^^SSSS'' " 


real  life,  alto- 
and  happiness 
and  loving  as 

\g,  is  not  the 
ositive  danger 
to  bring  in  a 
id  destroy  the 
•f  one  wander 
blame.     One 
because   the 
r  hateful, 
dren  who  are 
he  household 
e  elegance  can 
From  those 
y  off  to  find 
It  home,  and 
vays  of  Hell  I 
unfrequently 
ity  of  home- 
their  parents' 
mummies — 

ri 

»  freeze  each 
ir  bickerings. 
;m,  like  the 
ill  spring  up 


MARRIED  PEOPLE.  p» 

a  hateful,  malignant  spoiler.  It  is  so  much  easier 
to  indulge  a  captious,  petulant  spirit  than  to  hold 
it  in  check.  People  neglect  those  little  foxes, 
surliness,  snappishness,  fault-finding,  till  they 
have  spoiled  all  the  vines.  Such  parents  may 
help  their  children  to  good  social  position.  They 
may  will  them  a  few  paltry  dollars,  but  they  rob 
them  of  what  is  worth  more  than  millions,  the 
kmdliness,  the  sweet  memories,  the  culturing  In- 
fluence  of  true  home  love. 

Let  us  find  some  of  the  reasons  why  so  many 
married  people  fail  of  happiness.     In  the  outset 
we  may  note  a  fault  ii>  the  preliminaries.     Mar- 
ried life  is  held  constantly  before  young  people, 
not  in  its  own  plain,  beautiful,  common  sense 
simplicity,  but  tricked  out  with  all  manner  of 
moonshiny  sentimentaKsms.   and  -nreal  fancies 
The  subject  of  getting  married  makes  the  staple 
of  their  jests,  the  main  part  of  their  merriment. 
Their  amusements  are  planned  with  this  thought 
uppermost.     Their  confidences  are  largely  made 
up  of  the  telling  of  love  affairs.     Their  books 
outside    of    the    school-room    teach    little   else. 
What  was  that  your  boy  hid  under  his  pillow? 
A  iove  story.     And  little  need  is  there  of  hiding  - 
that  sort  of  literature  these  days  when  even  Sun- 
day-school libraries  are  full  of  it.    What  was  your 
daughter  crying  over  ?    The  tribulations  of  a  pair 

7 


98 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


i;i 


of  unfortunate  lovers,  the  course  of  \\\\o%fi  affaires 
du  caur  seemed  running  at  the  usual  unsmooth 
rate.  Some  authors  catalogued  brilliant  have 
written  but  little  except  how  people  may  get 
married  in  spite  of  difficulties  and  obstacles. 

Sculpture,  painting,  poetry,  music,  all  have 
been  pressed  into  the  business  of  drawing  young 
people  toward  the  Eden  of  wedded  life.  By  this 
glamour  during  a  decade  of  the  most  susceptible 
young  years,  marriage  is  made  to  appear  the  iu 
plus  ultra  of  existence.  For  each  there  is  wait- 
ing somewhere  an  angel  that  has  chanced  to  be 
clothed  in  human  form,  and  the  chief  end  of  life 
is  to  find  that  seraphic  being  and  bring  about  a 
right  understanding.  But  when  the  congratula- 
tions are  over,  the  cake  eaten,  the  flowers  faded, 
the  every-day  dress  resumed,  the  newly-joined 
pair  find  themselves  thrust  back  suddenly  into  a 
sober,  matter  of  fact  world  where  people  have  to 
eat  and  drink,  pay  rent  and  doctor's  bills.  Tlie 
angel  turns  out  to  be  a  only  good-looking  young 
fellow,  who  will  smoke  horrid  cigars  with  his  feet 
on  the  backs  of  the  parlor  chairs,  and  talk  slang 
and  pick  his  teeth  at  the  table ;  or  a  pleasant  little 
woman  in  a  sonnewhat  unbecoming  morning 
dress,  who  has  shocking  headaches  at  inoppor- 
tune times,  and  who  cries  to  see  her  mamma 
when  things  are  not  exactly  to  her  mind.     "To 


I 


f  whose  affaires 
isual  unsmooth 
brilliant  have 
eople  may  get 
1  obstacles, 
nusic,  all  have 
drawing  young 
d  life.  By  this 
lost  susceptible 
)  appear  the  iie 
\  there  is  wait- 
chanced  to  be 
:hief  end  of  life 
1  bring  about  a 
the  congratula- 
:  flowers  faded, 
le  newly-joined 
suddenly  into  a 
people  have  to 
or's  bills.  Tlie 
1-looking  young 
ars  with  his  feet 
,  and  talk  slang 
a  pleasant  little 
>ming  mornuig 
hes  at  inoppor- 
ee  her  mamma 
er  mind.     "To 


AtAKRIED  PEOPLE.  99 

work  "  is  the  verb  that  must  be  conjugated  now 
in  all  .ts  moods  and  tenses,  though  the  mistaken 
pair  expected  to  loiter  sunnily  through  "to  en- 
joy. "  If  they  had  been  held  to  better  sense  they 
would  have  found  that  the  two  ?re  synonyms. 

The  fiction-steeped  ambrosia  and  nectar  begin 
to  sour.  The  cream  of  life  seems  to  be  only  bit- 
ter whey,  and  there  they  are,  fast  for  a  life-time, 
their  happ.ness  wrecked  by  a  cuarming  blunder  I 
That  conviction,  do  you  see,  is  as  wrong  as 
were  their  azure  and  gold  expectations.  They 
may  swing  back  to  a  sensible  view  of  the  case 
though  some  never  do. 

Young  people  ought  to  go  through  with  their 
courts/lip  with  their  eyes  open.     The  blind  Cupid 
«s  a  pretty  myth  for  the  poets,  but  not  one  in 
whose  hands  we  may  risk  our  happiness  for  life. 
When  a  young  man  fancies  that  he  is  marrying 
perfection,  we  can  but  anticipate  for  him  a  disa- 
greeable awaking.      Knowing  the  tendency  of 
human  nature  to  extremes,  we  quite  expect  him 
to  take  a  tUt  in  the  opposite  direction,  and  un- 
derrate the  lady  in  the  ratio  of  his  present  ex- 
travagance.     That  is  what  we  always  do  when 
disappointed  in  any  friend.     We  mark  him  as- 
much  too  low  as  we  had  him  before  too  high. 

A  little  common  sense  is  an  immense  help  in 
such  cases.     Let  the  young  man  understand  that 


mm 


I- 


100 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


his  lady-love,  though  quite  as  angelic  as  It  is 
proper  for  U;?  wife  to  be,  is  simply  human  after 
all,  made  of  about  the  same  material  as  the 
mother  who  bothers  him  with  her  advice  and  wor- 
ries because  he  does  not  heed  it,  or  the  sister 
whom  he  drives  into  the  pouts  now  and  then  with 
his  teasing.  The  same  human  stuff,  only  more 
thoroughly  in  his  power — more  easily  hurt.  His 
mother  knows  that  he  is  growing  away  from  her 
and  presently  he  will  go  into  a  home  of  his  own. 
His  sister  comforts  herself  with  the  hope  that 
she  will  have  somebody  some  day  to  love  her 
boundlessly — some  one  who  will  not  torment  hei 
so.  But  this  woman  knows  that  there  is  no 
proper  way  out  of  the  reach  of  his  burriness  ex- 
cept to  die. 

Some  set  out  with  right  notions,  but  they  are 
quite  too  prodigal  of  each  other's  love  and  pa- 
tience. They  seem  to  take  it  for  granted  that 
the  supply  is  exhaustless.  To  be  sure,  it  took  a 
world  of  effort  to  bring  the  affair  to  its  present 
delicious  state,  but,  thank  Providence,  it  is  hap- 
pily adjusted  at  last.  After  the  knot  is  tied  they 
may  b  as  careless  as  they  choose  to  be  about 
those  little  attentions  and  politenesses  of  which 
they  were  so  profuse  a  few  months  before.  This 
is  a  radical  mistake.  It  takes  more  care  to  hold 
than  to  win  a  love.     If  it  be  worth  any  thing, 


I 


%  -%* 


mgelic  as  it  is 
Ay  human  after 
natcrial  as  tlie 
advice  and  wor- 
t,  or  the  sister 
V  and  then  with 
tuff,  only  more 
isily  hurt.     His 

away  from  her 
me  of  his  own. 

the  hope  that 
ay  to  love  her 
lot  torment  hei 
at  there  is  no 
is  burriness  ex- 

is,  but  they  are 
s  love  and  pa- 
»r  granted  that 
sure,  it  took  a 
r  to  its  present 
ence,  it  is  hap- 
not  is  tied  they 
se  to  be  about 
esses  of  which 
J  before.  This 
re  care  to  hold 
>rth  any  thing, 


MARRIED  PEOPLE.  iot 

and  you  are  certainly  not  so  idiotic  as  to  think 
it  of  no  moment  that  the  friend  nearest  you 
should  care  for  you  always  tenderly,  you  ought 
to  plan  deliberately  to  keep  alive  the  sentiment 
you  have  been  so  fortunate  as  to  inspire. 

The  graduate  is  a  failure  who  stops  studying 
when  he  takes  his  diploma.     The  victorious  gen- 
eral who  does  not  keep  connection  with  his  base 
of  supplies  will  soon  find  himself  in  no  enviable 
position.    The  young  Christian  who  congratulates 
himself  that  he  has  nothing  to  do  but  to  sing  and 
praise  will  soon  find  that  he  has  little  left  over 
which  to  rejoice.     Jjo  the  man  who  thinks  his 
courtship  ends  with  the  bridal   "yes,"  or  the 
woman  who   backslides   into  the   slipshod  and 
easy-going  as  soon  as  her  husband  is  caught,  is 
sure  to  wreck  domestic  happiness. 

Married  people  must  not  expect  to  think  ex- 
actly alike  about  every  thing.  Of  course,  each 
must  be  firm  in  matters  of  conscience,  but  in 
the  non-essentials  let  each  defer  to  the  other's 
preference,  as  far  as  possible.  There  is  no  use 
in  arguing.  Let  there  be  candor  and  the  utmost 
respect  for  each  other's  opinions  in  the  consider- 
ation of  questions  about  which  there  is  a  differ- 
ence. If  an  agreement  seems  impossible,  let 
that  controverted  point  be  fenced  about— unap- 
proachable territory— like  the  Elis  of  the  Greeks. 


DIAMOND  DUST. 

The  one  who  has  most  patience  and  self-control 
will  probably  win  in  the  long  run. 

There  are  those  who  loved  each  other  gen-' 
uinely  at  the  outset  who  have  suffered  the  cares 
of  life  to  crowd  them  intc  coldness  and  indiffer- 
ence. If  the  eye  of  such  a  one  rests  upon  this 
page,  let  me  whisper  that  there  is  hope.  It  is 
never  too  late  to  mend.  Your  love  may  have 
been  cut  down  by  the  frost  so  that  it  has  hardly 
put  forth  a  leaf  lor  a  dozen  years;  but  the  roots 
are  alive,  and  with  care  the  plant  will  spring  up 
again.  Let  there  be  an  explanation,  an  under- 
standing, if  practicable.  Let  each  decide  to  be- 
gin anew  to  live  as  people  ought,  with  the  help 
of  the  good  God.  It  will  be  no  small  undertak- 
ing— much  harder  than  to  have  kept  right  from 
the  first.  Your  habits  are  against  you,  and  you 
are  less  mobile  in  character,  but  it  can  be  done, 
and  it  will  pay. 

Perhaps  the  mutual  regard  has  been  so  long 
buried,  the  ground  above  it  tramped  so  hard 
by  neglect  and  coldness  and  little  asperities,  that 
its  very  life  i&  a  matter  of  doubt.  But  remem- 
ber you  -are  bound  together  for  all  time.  Not 
only  your  own  but  your  children's  happiness  is 
at  stake.  Give  the  love  the  benefit  of  the 
doubt.  Act  toward  each  other  as  if  all  were 
right  between  you.     Keep  back  every  impatient 


'WP 


UST. 

ence  and  self-control 
J  run. 

'ed  each  other  gen-i 
i:e  suffered  the  cares 
oldness  and  indiffer- 

one  rests  upon  this 
there  is  hope.  It  is 
four  love  may  have 
30  that  it  has  hardly 
years;  but  the  roots 
plant  will  spring  up 
planation,  an  under- 
t  each  decide  to  be- 
)ught,  with  the  help 
i  no  small  undertak- 
jave  kept  right  from 
gainst  you,  and  you 

but  it  can  be  done, 

rd  has  been  so  long 
it  tramped  so  hard 
little  asperities,  that 
loubt.  But  remem- 
■  for  all  time.  Not 
ildren's  happiness  is 
the  benefit  of  the 
}ther  as  if  all  were 
>ack  every  impatient 


MARRIED  PEOPLE. 


103 


look  and  word  as  carefully  as  if  you  were  trying 
to  secure  some  great  favor  of  a  stranger.  Try 
the  effect  of  the  little  attentions  that  drew  you 
together  at  first — the  confidences,  the  silent  de- 
ferring to  each  other's  taste.  Begin  anew  your 
courtship.  Before  marriage  you  always  had  for 
each  other  a  kind  look,  a  smile,  a  word  of  wel- 
come. Try  it  now.  It  one  comes  in  whom  it 
is  to  your  interest  to  please,  it  does  not  matter, 
how  tired  or  worried  you  are,  you  can  smooth 
your  face  and  put  on  a  smile.  There  is  no  hu- 
man being  whose  deportment  toward  you  can 
affect  your  life  like  the  demeanor  of  the  one  to 
whom  you  are  bound  for  weal  or  woe.  Better 
a  thousand  times  please  that  one  by  your  kindly 
courtesy  than  all  the  world  besides.  Let  the 
wife  meet  her  husband  at  the  door  with  a  kiss 
when  he  comes  home  from  his  day's  work.  If 
she  goes  into  his  office  or  store  or  study,  let 
him  treat  her  with  as  much  politeness  as  he 
would  use  toward  a  stranger,  and  not  Intimate 
that  she  is  a  great  bother,  only  "around  after 
money." 

Let  each  give  the  other  special  attention  at 
the  table,  as  though  there  were  none  there,  not 
even  guests,  who  are  more  to  be  honored.  It 
will  not  be  long  till  the  ice  will  give  way,  and 
the  warm  tide  of  early  love  will  be  again  pulsat- 


r\ 


ii.  I 


104 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


ing  through  hearts  that  had  nearly  lost  hope. 
This  must  be  done  or  the  united  life  that  might 
be  a  bond  of  surest  strength,  will  prove  to  be 
like  the  robe  steeped  in  the  blood  of  Nessus — a 
ceaseless,  deadly  galling. 

You  were  deceived  in  your  choice?  The 
probability  is  you  are  far  better  mated  than  you 
think;  and  if  you  were  free,  you  would  do 
about  the  same  thing  again.  At  any  rate,  your 
one  chance  is  to  make  the  best  of  the  case  as 
it  is  now.  That  coldness  may  be  only  a  crust 
of  reticence  over  a  warm,  quick  heart.  The 
peevishness  may  be  merely  the  querulousness 
of  hunger  for  which  no  one  is  so  much  to  blame 
as  yourself. 

Well  for  society  and  the  world  if  the  well- 
meaning,  frigid  people  could  be  induced  to  begin 
anew  a  cordial  treatment  of  each  other,  and  thus 
happiness  be  brought  back  to  many  an  empty- 
hearted,  lonely  home. 

Married  people  are  altogether  too  chary  of 
their  comtnenlaiion  of  each  other's  good  acts. 
They  can  criticise  and  censure  and  wax  eloquent 
over  faults,  delivering  themselves  of  proverbs, 
with  homilies  attached,  ad  infinitum;  but  a  right 
good,  hearty  word  of  praise— it  would  choke 
them,  one  might  think. 

And  an  immense,  psychological  blunder  is 


'wf 


arly  lost  hope. 

life  that  might 

ill  prove  to  be 

d  of  Nessus — a 

■  choice?  The 
'fiafed  than  you 
you   would   do 

any  rate,  your 
of  the  case  as 
e  only  a  crust 
k   heart.     The 

querulousness 
much  to  blame 

•Id  if  the  well- 
duced  to  begin 
other,  and  thus 
my  an  empty- 

•  too  chary  of 
r's  good  acts. 
I  wax  eloquent 
i  of  proverbs, 
w;  but  a  right 
would   choke 

:al  blunder  is 


MARRIED  PEOPLE. 


"S 


that,  to  be  sure.  We  are  oftener  helped  to  hu- 
mility by  honest,  straightforward  approval  of 
our  eflTorts  than  by  scolding  and  fault-finding. 
Some  who  carry  the  bravest  face  are  at  the  de- 
spair point  because  they  amount  to  so  little, 
staggering  under  a  burden  of  fancied  incompe- 
tency, needing  far  more  than  any  one  ever 
dreams  a  little  encouragement.  Help  them  over 
that  hard  place,  and  they  will  have  time  and 
strength  to  think  of  being  actually  humble. 

Some  men  are  full  of  praise  of  their  domestic 
establishments  behind  the  back  of  their  wives — 
the  very  ones  who  need  the  good  word — while, 
in  the  presence  of  the  disheartened  haustnutters, 
you  could  hardly  draw  a  syllable  of  appreciation 
from  them  with  forceps. 

In  old  times  good  people  used  to  put  on 
their  Sunday  cbthes  and  kid  gloves  before  they 
dared  speak  of  their . religious  experience;  and 
their  love  for  their  friends  fared  but  little  better. 
If  one  spoke  of  the  love  of  God  shed  abroad  in 
his  heart  by  Ae  Holy  Spirit,  it  was  regarded  a 
sure  sign  that  he  was  a  hypocrite.  No  clearer 
mark  of  a  reprobate  than  to  believe  your  sins 
pardoned,  and  have  a  disposition  to  declare  the 
joyful  fact.  In  those  old  iron-clad  days  if  a 
married  pair  Indulged  "before  folks"  in  any  sort 
of  manifestations  of  regard,  they  were  set  .down 


iwfcww  irwi*«!in>M«ia'iw,'^»ra,- ' 


Hill' f'lcii  nil  mimiii 


io6 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


at  once  as  people  who  quarrel  when  the  eye  of 
the  dear  public  is  off  their  behavior.  So  they 
trudged  on,  those  old  saints,  at  infinite  pains  to 
keep  the  fire  shut  in  most  carefully,  while  those 
who  were  dearer  than  life  were  freezing  to  death 
at  their  side. 

Unfortunately,  this  frigid  mode  of  life  has 
not  all  passed  away  with  knee-buckles  and  ruffled 
shirts.  There  are  plenty  of  married  people  yet 
who  walk  icily  side  by  side,  till  one  bends  over 
the  other's  dying  bed.  Then,  when  there  is 
little  use,  the  pent  stream  bursts  forth.  The 
wealth  that  was  intended  for  all  those  cold,  hun- 
gry years,  is  poured  forth  lavishly,  and  it  is  all 
too  late! 

Let  us  be  wise  in  time.  God  never  meant 
this  life  to  be  a  desert  utterly  barren  of  all  that 
is  good  and  beautiful  and  refreshing  and  glad. 

Finally,  in  this  matter,  "Whatsoever  things 
are  true,  whatsoever  things  are  honest,  whatso- 
ever things  are  just,  whatsoever  things  are  pure, 
whatsoever  things  are  lovely,  whatsoever  things 
are  of  good  report;  if  there  be  any  virtue,  and 
if  there  be  any  praise,  think  on  these  things." 

A  home  where  Christ  abides  is  a  little  rem- 
nant of  Eden.  The  benediction  of  God  falls  ver- 
tically upon  its  blessed  inmates.  It  can  but  be 
a  power  in  the  evangelization  of  the  race,  an 


"Tl'l^il'-fT^  nw  iiiwatfiti 


w 


MARRIED  PEOPLE. 


hen  the  eye  of 
ivior.  So  they 
nfinite  pains  to 
lly,  while  those 
eezing  to  death 

>de  of  life  has 
kles  and  ruffled 
ried  people  yet 
jne  bends  over 
when  there  is 
sts  forth.  The 
hose  cold,  hun- 
y,  and  it  is  all 

d  never  meant 
rren  of  all  that 
ng  and  glad, 
atsoever  things 
iionest,  whatso- 
hings  are  pure, 
atsoever  things 
•iny  virtue,  and 
lese  things." 

is  a  little  retn- 
f  God  falls  ver- 

It  can  but  be 
f  the  race,  an 


icfy 


armory  where  God's  soldiers  are  equipped.  Let 
Christian  homes  be  constructed  by  that  wisdom 
that  is  "from  above,  that  is  first  pure,  then 
peaceable,  gentle,  and  easy  to  be  entreated, 
full  of  mercy  and  good  fruits,  without  parti- 
ality, and  without  hypocrisy."  Then  "the  fruit 
of  righteousness"  will  be  "sown  in  peace  for 
them  that  make  peace," 

Let  the  Scriptural  law  of  unselfish  lOve  and 
reverence,  based  as  it  is  upon  the  inherent  dig- 
nity of  humanity,  and  the  golden  rule  of  giving 
precisely  what  each  would  wish  to  receive  from 
the  other — let  this  divine  dictum  be  observed. 

Then  shall  the  home  be,  what  God  meant  in 
its  plan,  the  center  and  stronghold  of  the  civili- 
zation, the  very  exponent  and  chief  guard  of' 
Christianity.  Children  born  in  such  gardens  of 
good  will  escape  the  spiritual  warping  and  maim- 
ing that  now  so  often  sends  them  forth  into  the 
work  of  the  world  hopelessly  tyrannical  or  cring- 
ing, self  confident  or  discouraged,  unable  to  touch 
the  problems  of  the  future  that  press  alike  upon 
the  sympathies  and  energies  of  men  and  women. 

By  the  arithmetic  of  /leaven,  while  one  may 
chase  a  thousand,  two  can  put  ten  thousand  jto 
flight,— the  uniting  of  strength  multiplying  the 
efficiency  by  five.  So  of  a  good  man  and  woman 
joining  hands  for  the  long  walk  through  life. 


Ki 


1 08 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


each  free  in  Christ's  freedom,  each  iJving  by  the 
divine  will,  and  yet  the  twain  un-'ted  by  the 
miracle  of  Him  who  honored  with  his  presence 
the  wedding  in  Cana  of  Galilee,  and  who  must 
always  himself  unite  the  truly  married,— the 
union  after  this  manner  can  but  increase  infin- 
itely the  ability  for  noble  work, 

"Two  hea.Is  in  council;  two  beside  tlie  hearth; 
Two  in  the  tangled  hiiKiness  of  the  woild ; 
Two  in  the  liberal  offices  of  liu  ; 
Two  plummets  dropped  for  one  to  sound  the  abyss 
Of  science  and  the  secrets  of  the  mind. 
In  the  long  years  liker  must  they  grow, 
The  man  be  more  of  woman,  she  of  man. 
He  gain  in  moral  height,  nor  lose 
The  wrestling  thews  that  throw  the  world. 
She,  mental  breadth,  nor  fail  in  chlldward  care 
Till  at  the  last  she  set  herself  to  him 
Like  perfect  music  unto  noblest  words; 
Then  comes  the  statelier  Eden  back  to  man, 
Then  reign  the  world's  great  bridals  chaste  and  calm, 
Then  springs  the  crowning  race  of  human  kind." 


i*<i>ii(iviiiii>iiii'.aajnu,a4^ij,ji. ..     |f|,i, 


1 


li  ifving  by  the 
united  by  the 
h  his  presence 
and  who  must 
married, — the 
increase  infin- 


e  hearth; 
voi  Id ; 

und  the  abyss 

d. 

»w, 

man. 

vorld. 
Iward  care 


to  man, 

liaste  and  calm, 

iman  kind." 


J'liilirMliaHiflilli 


^aa8it^aaga'^?Siaw^3S:-'-^..:?-,-iJ|  igJBfiBJHIMIH 


SAVING  THE  LIFE. 


109 


T^HE  Scriptures  always  sketch  from  life. 
A  They  do  not  group  figures  for  artistic 
effect,  throwing  awkward  facts  into  the  back- 
ground. If  their  pages  had  been  dictated  by 
human  wisdom,  the  immoralities  of  the  patri- 
archs, David's  sin,  Solomon's  defection  and  Pe- 
ter's lie  would  have  been  left  out,  and  so  would 
the  disputes  of  the  disciples  about  which  should 
be  the  greatest. 

The  Bible,  like  one  who  takes  an  instantane- 
ous photographic  view,  brings  before  us  people 
as  they  were,  and  not  as  they  ought  to  have 
been.  In  this  naturalness,  this  humanness,  this 
truthfulness,  may  be  found  much  of  the  force  of 
its  teachings. 

The  very  defects  of  its  characters  are  helpful, 
because  they  are  so  much  like  those  that  cripple 
us  and  deprive  us  of  power  for  good.  They  are 
like  signals  of  warning  set  up  in  dangerous  ways, 
like  light-houses  built  upon  terrible  rocks.  They 
cry  to  us,  "  Beware,  a  great  soul  perished  here  I 


no 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


Stand  off,   a  nation  struck  that  reef  and  went 
down !" 

Probably  none  of  the  warnings  of  Scripture 
are  more  needed  by  many  souls  than  that  given 
in  the  apostolic  quatrel  about  who  should  be  the 
greatest.     It  was  certainly  a  very  weak  and  child- 
ish affair.     A  struggle  for  pre-eminence  among 
the   disciples  of  a  Master  who  was  so  poor  he 
had  not  where  to  lay  his  head,  dependent  for  his 
food  upon  the  charity  of  those  who  risked  all   in 
h.3  service,  and  obliged  to  work  a  miracle  to  get 
money  to  pay  his  taxes.     It  was  most  inoppor- 
tune.     The  gloom   of  Gethsemane  and  Calvary 
had  begun  to  settle  upon  his  soul.     He  was  in 
the  first  act  of  the  awful  redemptive  tragedy.     It 
was  unutterably  discouraging.     He  was  lifting  to 
his  hps  the  cup  of  doom  prepared  by  sin  for 
every  human  soul.     He  was  about  to  taste  death 
for  every  man.     The  life  he  was  to   purchase 
could  come  only  by  the  casting  out  of  the  old, 
selfish  nature.      Yet  those  whor.i  he  had  been 
teaching  for  three  years,  and  who  had  been  per- 
mitted to  enter  with  him  the  very  inner  sanctu- 
ary of  the  divine  presence,  wer6  giving  way  be- 
fore  the  very  first  onslaught  of  thfe  enemy,  to 
that  pride  and  selfishness  that  he  was  sacrificing 
his  life  to  eradicate. 

Foolish  and  inopportune  and  discouraging  as 


'^lUwMilMiimii'      I II. 


B«>*MA«*EiR««HaK9ett;  1 


reef  and  went 

igs  of  Scripture 
than  that  given 
»  should  be  the 
weak  and  chiid- 
minence  among 
ivas  so  poor  he 
ipendent  for  his 
lo  risked  all   in 
I  miracle  to  get 
most  inoppor- 
le  and  Calvary 
il.     He  was  in 
i^e  tragedy.     It 
e  was  lifting  to 
red  by  sin  for 
t  to  taste  death 
s  to   purchase 
Jut  of  the  old, 
he  had  been 
had  been  per- 
y  inner  sanctu- 
jiving  way  be- 
thfe  enemy,  to 
was  sacrificing 

liscouraging  as 


SAVING   THE  LIFE. 

was  that  miserable  dispute,  it  was  no  worse  than 
what  the  M<ister  has  heard  in  the  hearts  and 
homes  of  Christians  many  and  many  a  time  now- 
adays, and  always.  That  same  wretched  ques- 
tion echoes  and  re-echoes  through  our  lives,  day 
by  day,  like  the  ceaseless  wash  of  waves. 

The  Savior  was  at  infinite  pains  to  bring  them 
and  us  to  a  better  understanding  of  life  and  its 
uses.  He  said  again  and  again,  "  If  any  man 
desires  to  be  first  among  you,  the  same  shall  be 
last  of  all  and  servant  of  all."  Our  stumbling  so 
constantly  at  this  point  is  a  sure  index  that  there 
is  a  right  imptdse  of  the  soul,  and  a  strong  one, 
that  has  broken  loose  from  restraint  and  lost  its 
way,  and  from  that  comes  the  trouble.  We  de- 
sire to  save  the  life  from  utter  oblivion  and  for- 
getfulness. 

"To  <Iie, 
To  sink  as  sinks  the  traveler  who  falls 
In  the  streets  of  busy  London, 
When  Mie  crowds  close  in  and  all 's  forgotten." 

This  seems  such  a  pitiful  fate,  so  like  never 
having  existed,  so  like  being  blotted  completely 
from  the  roll  of  being,  avc  look  about  in  desper- 
ate earnest  to  find  something  within  the  compass 
of  our  power  that  shall  give  us  immortality. 
We  want  to  clamber  a  little  way  above  the  com- 
mon herd  whose  very  names  will  be  forgotten  be- 
fore their  bodies  fairly  turn  to  dust.     A  fortune, 


iia 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


political  preferment,  professional  reputation,  liter- 
ary fame,  something  must  help  us  to  a  niche  in 
the  rocks  where  we  may  write  our  little  story 
with  a  hope  that  the  waves  may  not  wear  it  away 
for  at  least  half  a  century. 

Possibly  we  lack  In  genuine  self-respect.  We 
want  to  bolster  our  importance  by  some  outward 
manifestations  that  indicate  our  consequence. 
We  must  distinguish  ourselves  in  some  -vay  to 
set  us  at  peace  with  ourselves. 

Some  have  an  inborn  love  of  power,  a  death- 
less determination  to  stand  first  and  foremost  at 
all  cost  to  others.  The  Alexanders,  the  Tamer- 
lanes,  the  Attilas,  the  Caesars,  the  Napoleons 
shine  forth  in  the  firmament  of  history,  their 
lamps  hghted  at  the  altar  fire,  kept  burning  upon 
the  shrine  of  godless  ambition.  They  flame  with 
a  lurid  gleam,  like  torches  made  ragged  by  the 
gloom,  and  flaring  over  pools  of  battle  gore. 

Like  the  attempts  of  the  Egyptians  to  stave 
off  the  doom  of  forgetfulness  by  postponing  the 
decay  of  the  lifeless  body,  they  succeed  only  in 
perpetuating  the  loathsomeness  of  death— their 
fame  being  little  more  than  a  disgusting  mummy. 
Jesus  said.  "Whosoever  will  save  his  life 
shall  lose  it ;  but  whosoever  will  lose  his  life  for 
my  sake  the  same  shall  save  it." 

They  who  have  really  saved  the  life,  living 


■^1 1 


II 


SAVING  THE  LIFE. 


"3 


reputation,  Uter- 
us to  a  niche  in 
■  our  little  story 
not  wear  it  away 

;lf-respect.  We 
y  some  outward 
r  consequence, 
n  some  'vay  to 

power,  a  death- 
md  foremost  at 
ers,  the  Tamer- 
the   Napoleons 
r  history,  their 
t  burning  upon 
'hey  flame  with 
ragged  by  the 
battle  gore, 
ptians  to  stave 
postponing  the 
ucceed  only  in 
f  death— their 
isting  mummy, 
save  his  life 
lose  his  life  for 

the  life,  living 


iiwiBiiiiiiiMiimtriiiiJilirifc.ii;ji;ij4i^.iLiiipii 


through  the  ages  in  the  continued  vitality  of  their 
thought  and  action,  are  those  who  have  wrought 
by  the  Master's  rule,  losing  all  in  a  single-eyed 
devotion  to  right  principle. 

Among  the  very  first  names  upon  this  Roll 
of  Honor,  we  find  that  of  Abel,  the  proto-mar- 
tyr  to  the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith.  His 
voice,  muffled  by  distance,  comes  to  us  from  the 
dim,  early  dawn,  emphasizing  the  vital  truth  for 
which  he  died.  ' '  He  being  dead,  yet  speaketh, " 
and  his  utterance  is  echoed  by  the  most  ad- 
vanced religious  thought  of  this,  the  latest  cen- 
tury.    '  •  The  just  shall  live  by  faith. " 

Moses  also  saved  his  life  by  its  loss.     He 
found  the  greater  part  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
globe  segregated,  nomadic.     There  were  neither 
domestic  nor  civil   institutions  worth  the  name, 
because  there  were  none  based  upon  the  eternal 
principles  of  right.     Man  as  man  had  not  enough 
inherent  dignity  to  enable  him  t  -  claim  any  consid- 
eration at  the  hand  of  another,  except  what  mus- 
cular or  monetary  power  could  exact  as  his  due. 
Moses  found  the  dominant   race,  the  more 
highly   civilized   and   intellectual,  enslaving   the 
the  simpler  and  weaker,  and  keeping  it  under 
by  murdering  its  children  and  forcing  it  to  toll 
ceaselessly   to   fill    the    land   with   architectural 
marvels.  - 

8 


(^^/. 


*«" 


»14 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


li'!: 


!i! 


III 


Impetuous  in  liis  fiery  zeal,  and  full  of  enthu- 
siasm for  a  grand  principle,  he  threw  himself  Into 
the  work  of  reform.     He  slew  an  Egyptian  who 
I*  happened  to  be  an  exponent  of  the  general  op- 

pression, and  hid  him  in  the  sand.  He  found, 
to  his  cost,  that  he  was  working  at  the  wrong 
end  of  the  problem.  The  subject  race  must  be 
made  to  comprehend  its  own  dignity.  The  prm- 
ciple  V  iolated  in  human  servitude  is  the  inherent 
greatness  of  humanity,  and  they  who  are  under 
can  be  trusted  to  rise  to  equality  or  superiority 
only  as  they  apprehend  this  principle.  Without 
that  apprehension  a  change  of  position  would  be 
only  a  change  of  tyrannies. 

To  lift  up  a  man  or  a  race,  one  need  not 
trouble  himself  to  make  the  oppressor  understand 
the  worth  of  the  slave.  Let  him  teach  the  slave 
his  own  dignity,  and  trust  him  to  make  his  mas- 
ter comprehend  that  lesson.  The  liberator  must 
also  see  so  plainly  the  tremendous  import  of  hu- 
man life,  that  he  will  go  down  among  the  op. 
pressed  and  share  the  obloquy  of  their  wrongs, 
!.v3tained  by  his  belief  In  the  Intrinsic  human 
royalty. 

To  emancipate  the  degraded  Israelites,  Moses 
had  to  go  to  work,  not  as  the  Egyptian  prince 
philosopher,  the  heir  of  the  proud  throne  of 
the   Pharaohs;    he  must  count   the  wealth   of 


2^ 


Mtmn 


Mktei 


AX  VI NG  THE  LIFE, 


"5 


»nd  full  of  enthu- 
irew  himself  into 
n  Egyptian  who 
■  the  general  op- 
nd.  He  found, 
ig  at  the  wrong 
ct  race  must  be 
:nity.  The  prm- 
e  is  the  inherent 
r  who  are  under 
ty  or  superiority 
ciple.  Without 
osition  would  be 

one  need  not 
issor  understand 
I  teach  the  slave 
>  make  liis  mas- 
e  liberator  must 
IS  import  of  hu- 
among  the  op« 
jf  their  wrongs, 
intrinsic  human 

sraelites,  Moses 

Egyptian  prince 

•oud  throne   of 

the  wealth   of 


immsmxammms^eiak 


achievement  in  lifting  up  the  enslaved  greater 
riches  than  the  treasures  of  Egypt,  with  its  affluent 
old  civilization.  It  took  forty  silent,  meditative 
years  alone  with  Jehovah  in  Midian  for  him  to 
learn  that  lesson.  At  last  he  promulgated  his 
code,  giving  the  wisest  adjustment  of  the  rela- 
tions of  men  to  men  possible  for  many  centuries. 
He  epitomized  common  law,  which,  after  the 
lapse  of  nearly  four  thousand  years,  wraps  the 
civilized  world  in  the  mantle  of  its  guardianship. 

And  what  a  grand  saving  of  the  life  was 
his!  To  be  able  to  lay  a  network  of  obliga- 
tion upon  all  the  races  that  recognize  the  in- 
spired supremacy  of  conscience — giving  to  untold 
millions  the  happiness  of  a  safe,  protected  life. 
What  an  expansion  and  intensifying  of  one's 
own  vitality  I  What  if  he  did  wrap  himself  in  a 
coarse  Arab  mantle  and  lie  down  to  die  upon 
Nebo,  crownless,  scepterless,  throneless,  with  no 
shelter  but  the  open  sky,  a  houseless  wanderer? 
For  what  better  tent  could  we  a.sk  in  which  such 
a  grand  being  should  breathe  out  his  life,  than 
the  star-gemmed  heavens,  with  the  sun  In  his 
strength  and  the  moon  in  her  brightness  to  guard 
his  burial  place — angels  about  him,  and  Jehovah 
to  minister  the  last  mortal  rites? 

Aristotle  was  another  of  the  glorious  self- 
givers.     It  was  his  work  to  cany  the  world  from 


CM 


ii6 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


^M, 


'ii 


I'll, 


! 
(If 

!»  .Ill 


the  iKazen  into  the  silver  age.  Under  his  power, 
brawn  yielded  to  brain.  Muscle  had  been  king 
and  thought  its  slave..  He  reversed  the  order^ 
and  made  the  animal  serve  the  intellectual.  He 
taught  the  subjugation  of  the  passions  by  the 
reason,  and  for  twenty  centuries  his  dictum  has 
been  obeyed  in  all  the  lands  conquered  by  his 
genius. 

He  died  in  the  outer,  that  he  might  save  the 
true,  strong,  inner  life.  Of  the  Macedonian  no- 
bility, the  tutor  of  Alexander  the  Great,  endowed 
by  his  "royal  pupil  with  millions  of  money,  cov- 
ered with  courtly  honors,  yet  he  held  steady  to 
the  work  in  hand.  No  bribes  could  buy  him; 
no  flatteries  seduce  hirn;  no  successes  :nflate 
him;  no  glories  swerve  him  from  his  course. 
When  the  tide  turned,  and  the  people  for  whose 
emancipation  he  had  given  his  best  years  rejected 
his  counsel  and  cast  out  his  name  as  evil,  he 
stood  unmoved  like  a  rock  among  the  breakers, 
choosing  rather  to  suffer  affliction  than  to  aban- 
don the  principles  of  right  after  which  he  had 
groped  in  his  heathen  twilight.  He  died  an 
exile,  yet  the  mighty  reform  he  wrought  in  the 
domain  of  intellect  has  made  reasoning  reliable, 
and  all  emancipation  possible. 

The  Greeks  who  lived  and  taught  before  Aris- 
totle's day  had  a  supreme  ^contempt  for  huhian- 


>mmttmmmmmmmms» 


'■****''^***'*****j«'jaBte»iw» 


DUST. 

ige.  Under  his  power, 
Muscle  had  been  king 
le  reversed  the  order^ 
J  the  intellectual.  He 
r  the  passions  by  the 
iituries  his  dictum  has 
nds  conquered  by  his 

hat  he  might  save  the 
>f  the  Macedonian  no- 
ler  the  Great,  endowed 
lillions  of  money,  cov- 
yet  he  held  steady  to 
ribes  could  buy  him; 
no  successes  hiflate 
liim  from  his  course. 
I  the  people  for  whose 
his  best  years  rejected 
his  name  as  evil,  he 
I  among  the  breakers, 
iffliction  than  to  aban- 
t  after  which  he  had 
vilight.  He  died  an 
■m  he  wrought  in  the 
ide  reasoning  reliable, 
ble. 

nd  taught  before  Aris- 
^contempt  for  huhian> 


SAVING  THE  LIFE. 


117 


mmtitmmm 


My,  seeing  in  it  only  the  development  of  fine 
animal  life,  and  regarding  it  of  value  only  so  far 
as  it  was  physically  faultless.  Aristotle  put  his 
shoulder  under  the  burden  of  the  world's  wrong 
judgment  and  consequent  oppressions,  and 
through  all  the  long  centuries  the  animal  has 
never  regained  the  ascendency.  He  died  to  all 
that  was  preferred  by  the  people  around  him, 
yet  he  will  live  forever  in  the  gratitude  of  the 
thoughtful. 

Mohammed,  also,  gained  all  by  losing  all. 
He  found  the  people  groaning,  almost  uncon- 
sciously, under  the  beastly  burdens  laid  upon 
them  by  their  many  gods.  He  tried  to  teach 
them  a  pure,  monotheistic  worship.  They  called 
him  an  impostor,  and  drove  him  from  his  native 
city.  He  persevered  against  all  obstacles,  till 
they  came  at  last  to  believe  that  they  had  found 
in  him  their  long- looked -for  deliverer.  Then 
came  his  coronation-day;  and  for  four  centuries 
the  scholarship  of  the  world  was  found  among 
his  followers.  His  life  was  a  forfeit  to  his  pur- 
pose to  establish  monotheism.  He  sacrificed  to 
that  work  ease,  pleasure,  all  earthly  good.  Only 
thus  could  he  succeed. 

William,  Prince  of  Orange,  enjoyed  his 
broad  estates  and  elegant  life,  probably,  with  a 
nebulous    notion    of    human    equality    floating 


ii8 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


?!!'■' 


through  his  brain.  In  the  midst  of  luxury,  how 
could  he  know  the  hard  life  of  the  poor?  In 
high  favor  with  royalty,  how  could  he  under? 
stand  the  grinding  taxation  necessary  to  support 
regal  pomp  and  glory?  God  meant  him  to  be 
the  champion  of  civil  and  religious  liberty,  and 
it  took  hard  discipline  to  arouse  him  fully  to  the 
need  of  the  hour. 

The  Romish  Church  stole  his  son,  and  that 
awakened  him  to  a  sense  of  its  tyrannies.  The 
Duke  of  Alva,  with  his  dragonnades,  trying  to 
establish  the  Inquisition  in  Holland,  made  per- 
sonal liberty  a  myth.  When  the  silent  states- 
man began  actively  to  remonstrate,  his  estates 
were  wrested  from  him;  and  then,  with  an 
empty  purse,  insufficient  service,  indifferent  cloth- 
ing, no  place  of  safety,  a  price  on  his  head,  the 
proud  Prince  of  Orange  began  to  know  the 
meaning  of  poverty.  Then  he  became  truly  the 
friend  of  the  poor. 

When  the  great,  hungry  need  of  the  op- 
pressed people  laid  its  hand  upon  his  shoulder, 
he  was  young,  rich,  courted,  full  of  the  proudest, 
highest  life.  It  led  him,  step  by  step,  down  the 
winding  stair  to  its  den  of  want.  He  became 
^one  with  the  common  people.  He  gave  all  for 
their  emancipation.  When,  under  the  assassin's 
steel,  he  was  dying  for  their  liberties,  his  last 


■MMMsi 


<* 


SAVING  THE  LIFE, 


119 


t  of  luxury,  how 
f  the  poor?  In 
could  he  under- 
issary  to  support 
leant  him  to  be 
ious  liberty,  and 
him  fully  to  the 

is  son,  and  that 
tyrannies.  The 
nades,  trying  to 
land,  made  per- 
:he  silent  states- 
:rate,  his  estates 
then,  with  an 
indifferent  cloth- 
on  his  head,  the 
n  to  know  the 
>ecame  truly  the 

eed  of  the  op- 
}n  his  shoulder, 
of  the  proudest, 
^  step,  down  the 
it.  He  became 
He  gave  all  for 
er  the  assassin's 
iberties,  his  last 


words  attested  the  completeness  of  his  identity 
with  the  cause  of  the  poor,  "O  my  God,  have 
mercy  upon  my  poor  people!"  A  wail  went  to 
heaven  from  every  home  in  Holland.  He  who 
had  lost  his  life  for  the  sake  of  a  noble  cause 
had  gained  the  first  place  on  his  country's  roll 
of  honor  and  in  the  regard  of  all  good  men 
and  true. 

A  man  in  our  own  country  and  time  lived 
and  died  like  William  the  Silent,  losing  his  life 
for  the  oppressed,  and  saving  it  to  the  best  and 
most  enduring  immortality.  He  gave  liberty  to 
as  many  millions  as  did  the  Prince  of  Orange, 
and  humbled  as  proud  an  oligarchy. 

Lincoln  came  from  among  the  "poor  white 
trash"  of  the  South,  yet  as  princely  a  soul  was 
housed  in  his  rough  physique  as  lived  in  the 
bosom  of  the  man  of  elegant  culture  and  noble 
blood.  One  has  said  of  him,  "His  large  palm 
never  slipped  from  the  poor  man's  hand.  A 
child  of  the  people,  he  was  as  accessible  in  the 
White  House  as  he  had  been  in  the  cabin.  The 
griefs  of  the  poor  African  were  as  sacred  to  him 
as  were  the  claims  pf  the  opulent  white  man." 
Measuring  all  by  their  humanity,  he  found  them 
essentially  equal.  Seeing  in  God  the  Father  of 
all,  he  saw  in  every  man  a  brother. 

In   the  senatorial   contest   between  Lincoln 


I90 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


and  Douglas  the  latter  was  victorious.  Lincoln 
said:  "His  life  is  all  success,  mine  all  failure.  I 
would  give  every  thing  for  his  opportunity  of 
working  for  the  uplifting  of  the  oppressed." 
After  the  hard  discipline  of  the  years,  his  hour 
came.  He  was  found  equal  to  the  complete  self- 
glvi  ig  tliat  marked  him  the  Christly  man  of  the 
ages,  and  in  the  achievement  he  gave  all,  hold- 
ing s!  eady  to  his  purpose  even  when  his  friends 
turnefi  from  him  in  distrust.  At  last  he  gave  his 
life  for  the  cause  he  served. 

He  was  like  the  century  plant  that  we  saw  a 
few  years  ago.  After  seventy  patient  years  it 
burst  into  glorious  bloom,  and  then  it  died.  After 
the  supreme  act  of  his  life  Lincoln  went  to  God, 
and  the  mourning  throughout  all  lands  where 
liberty  was  loved  was  as  if  one  were  dead  in 
every  household.  Said  a  Russian  lady  upon  the 
shore  of  the  Black  Sea  to  a  tourist,  "So  you  are 
from  America — Lincoln's  land.  When  word 
came  that  they  had  killed  liim,  I  could  do  noth- 
ing for  hours  but  walk  the  floor  and  say,  'Lin- 
coln is  dead!  Lincoln  is  dead!'  " 

The  Great  Commoner,  he  interpreted  to  the 
people  their  own  sense  of  dignity.  Though  he 
lost  his  life,  he  saved  it  by  the  suffrage  of  uni- 
versal thoughtful  humanity. 

The  life  of  Jesus  the  Christ  was  the  most 


mmm 


SAVING  THE  LIFE. 


lai 


torious.  Lincoln 
ine  all  failure.  I 
;  opportunity  of 
the  oppressed." 
!  years,  his  hour 
he  complete  self- 
ristly  man  of  the 
e  gave  all,  hold- 
when  his  friends 
t  last  he  gave  his 

it  that  we  saw  a 

patient  years  it 

;n  it  died.    After 

•In  went  to  God, 

all  lands  where 

e  were  dead  in 

n  lady  upon  the 

St,  ' '  So  you  are 

When    word 

could  do  noth- 

and  say,  'Lin- 

:erpreted  to  the 
y.  Though  he 
suffrage  of  uni- 

r  was  the  most 


t^^^S^'<ftxi^^f^:^4^^ 


emphatic  illustration  of  saving  the  life  through  its 
loss. 

He  who  is  "  the  blessed  and  only  Potentate, 
who  only  hath  immortality,"  "made  himself 
of  no  reputation,  took  upon  him  the  form  of  a 
servant,  and  was  made  in  the  likeness  of  men ; 
and  being  found  in  form  as  a  man,  he  hum- 
bled himself  and  became  obedient  to  death,  even 
the  death  of  the  cross." 

He  went  down  into  the  very  depchs  of  human 
lostness  that  he  might  put  his  great  heart  under 
the  burden  of  the  curse.  Like  a  strong  swimmer 
who  had  dived  among  the  monsters  in  the  cav- 
erns under  the  sea,  he  came  up  pale,  exhausted, 
quivering  in  every  nerve,  but  bearing  in  his  arms 
a  rescued  race. 

•  Of  all  who  ever  lived  none  so  completely  and 
abundantly  saved  his  power  for.  good,  his  vitality, 
his  life  as  did  Jesus.  To-day  tlie  thought  of  the 
crucified  Galilean  is  the  mainspring  of  the  civi- 
lizations. All  bonds  that  bind  together  the  na- 
tions and  hold  them  back  from  savagery  are  of- 
his  weaving.  All  cords  that  draw  them  toward 
the  throne  of  the  Eternal  are  of  his  twining.  He 
is  not  only  the  "Way  and  the  Truth,  he  is  also 
the  Life. 

Since  it  appears  plain  that  to  make  the  life 
amount  to  the  most  in  God's  work,  it  is  tieces- 


mm 


saa 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


sary  to  lose  it,  we  may  ask  what  it  is  to  lose  the 
life  for  Christ's  sake. 

Is  it  not  to  submit  to  his  control  all  that  goes 
to  the  make-up  of  the  being? 

Perhaps  in  no  point  of  self-surrender  does  the 
will  take  a  more  stubborn  stand  than  in  submit- 
ting to  him  the  conduct  of  the  life. 

Self-direction  is  the  r^gal  power.  It  is  the 
crowning  glory  of  human  existence.  Most 
thoughtful  people  will  die  rather  tnan  surrender 
to  others  this  citadel.  Thousands  have  preferred^ 
death  to  servitude,  since  nothing  seems  so  de- 
grading as  unconditional  submission  to  a  human 
will. 

It  is  not  easy  to  surrender  even  to  God  the 
control  of  one's  individuality. 

It  adds  to  the  difficulty  to  know  that  for  the 
sake  of  discipline  and  development  He  will  prob- 
ably lead  us  to  just  the  work  we  most  dislike,and 
hold  us  back  from  the  things  that  we  prefer. 

A  wise  mother  crowds  out  upon  the  play- 
ground  the  nervous,  sensitive  child  that  is  forever 
poring  over  his  books,  while  she  holds  to  study 
the  robust,  roystering  one  who  is  always  ready 
for  any  thing  that  will  take  him  away  from  his 
lessons.  So,  in  his  efforts  to  bring  us  to  com- 
pleteness of  character,  God  will  probably  have  to 
lead  us  directly  against  our  inclination. 


-J 


SAVING  THE  LIFE, 


It  it  is  to  lose  the 

itrol  all  that  goes 

irrender  does  the 
than  in  submit- 
fe. 

>wer.  It  is  the 
cistence.  Most 
r  tnan  surrender 
Is  have  preferred^ 
ig  seems  so  de- 
Mon  to  a  human 

ven  to  God  the 

low  that  for  the 
It  He  will  prob- 
most  dislike,  and 
:  we  prefer, 
upon  the  play- 
d  that  is  forever 

holds  to  study 
is  always  ready 

away  from  his 
ng  us  to  com- 
robably  have  to 
lation. 


If  one  is  specially  fond  of  public  work  he 
may  be  ordered  to  the  rear,  that  in  the  retire- 
ment of  private  life  his  piety  may  be  deepened, 
and  his  reflective  faculties  duly  developed ;  while 
another  who  has  thought  and  studied  a  great 
deal,  shrinking  always  from  public  notice,  may 
be  sent  to  the  front  that  he  may  be  obliged  to 
have  new  courage  and  daring,  and  because  others 
need  the  result  of  his  accumulated  thought. 

When  called  upon  to  place  ourselves  in  God's 
hand  we  may  have  a  premonition  of  this  disci- 
pline that  will  make  us  draw  back  from  the  pain. 

When  the  mother  of  James  and  John  asked  that 
her  sons  might  sit,  one  on  the  right  and  the  other 
on  the  left  hand  of  the  Master  in  his  kingdom, 
he  asked  if  they  were  able  to  drink  of  the  cup 
that  he  was  to  drink  of,  and  to  be  .baptized  with 
the  baptism  that  he  was  baptized  with.  They  an- 
swered "We  are  able."  Probably  they  under- 
stood better  the  terms  of  promotion  in  the  king- 
dom of  the  Redeemer,  when  the  headsman's 
sword  gleamed  above  the  head  of  one,  and  the 
other  was  hunted  from  city  to  city  by  his  perse- 
cuting kinsmen. 

It  may  be  helpful  for  us  to  glance  at  some  of 
the  specific  points  that  come  under  this  generic 
principle  of  self-surrender.  Our  wish  to  acquire 
property  must  be  given  to  God.     This  is  one  of 


114 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


the  first  impulses  shown  by  a  little  child.  He 
pulls  every  thing  toward  himself,and  cries  if  what 
he  has  seized  is  taken  out  of  his  hand.  He  must 
have  every  thing  W\t  catches  his  attention  and 
pleases  his  fancy,  whether  it  be  his  fatlier's  watch 
or  the  moon.  ' 

Nothing  pleases  the  boy  better  than  to  have 
something  for  his  very  own,  "to  keep  forever 
and  ever." 

When  he  gets  older  he  sets  himself  to  get  the 
best  of  every  thing.  He  may  divide  with  the 
less  fortunate,  but  it  is  because  the  name  and 
sense  of  being  generous  may  furnish  more  pleas- 
ure than  the  use  of  the  trifle  he  gives — acquir- 
ing another  gain,  a  finer  and  greater  one. 

After  passing  his  thirtieth  mile-stone  he  cares 
less  for  that  pleasure  and  more  for  substantial 
acquisitions.  So  he  begins  to  store  away  the 
dollars  or  their  equivalent.  He  must  have  a 
place  and  stock  of  his  own. 

With  most  people  of  forty,  fifty,  and  sixty, 
the  determination  to  get  property  becomes  the 
dominant  purpose.  They  may  flatter  themselves 
that  they  do  not  love  money,  yet  they  hardly 
dare  deny  that  they  do  care  immensely  for  the 
consideration  and  the  attention  that  the  world  gives 
those  only  who  are  accounted  rich.  It  seems  a 
fine  thing  to  have  elegant  madames  trail  their 


• 


little  child.  He 
,and  cries  if  what 
hand.  He  must 
lis  attention  and 
lis  father's  watch 

ter  than  to  have 
to  keep  forever 

imself  to  get  the 
divide  with  the 
:  the  name  and 
fiish  more  pleas- 
e  gives — acquir- 
ater  one. 
e-stone  he  cares 
for  substantial 
store  away  the 
e  must  have  a 

ifty,  and  sixty, 
ty  becomes  the 
itter  themselves 
et  they  hardly 
nensely  for  the 
:  the  world  gives 
h.  It  seems  a 
mes  trail  their 


SAVING^THE  LIFE. 


"5 


costly  silks  in  at  one's  door,  while  a  coachman 
in  livery  drives  the  superb  carriage  up  and  down 
the  street  in  front  of  the  house,  and  to  hear  the 
rustle  in  an  audience  when  one  enters  a  church, 
or  hall,  and  the  sweet  sibilants,   "our  first  citi- 


zens," "our  best  families.'  Who  would  not  en- 
joy the  thousand  and  one  obsequious  attentions 
that  are  paid  to  the  wealthy  ?  Who  would  not 
shun  the  neglect,  and  coldness,  and  contempt 
with  which  the  poor  are  usually  treated.  "The 
rich  have  many  friends,  but  the  poor  is  hated 
even  of  his  own  neighbor." 

How  often  we  hear  the  expression,  "poor,  but 
worthy,"  as  if  the  terms  were  usually  antithetic, 
and  so  must  be  separated  by  a  disjunctive— the 
case  named  being  an  exception  to  the  rule.  That 
shows  the  general  drift  of  the  current  of  opinion, 
and  few  of  us  are  of  better  mind,  even  though 
we  be  followers  of  the  crucified  Nazarene. 

The  spirit  of  the  world  is  wrong  in  this  esti- 
mate of  people,  and  God  means  to  set  it  right. 
If  he  gets  us  in  hand  he  will  spare  no  pains  to 
correct  our  false  notions.  He  will  make  us  un- 
derstand human  equality.  He  will  give  us  to 
see  that  a  few  thousands  of  money,  more  or  less, 
make  no  sort  of  difference  .with  one's  intrinsic 
worth,  and  in  order  to  that  it  may  be  necessary 
to  give  us  a  view  from  the  lower  side  of  the  scale 


ii'miiiiii'iMi 


ia6 


DIAMOND  DVST. 


of  his  Standard  of  values.  Some  one  lias  said, 
"God  shows  how  little  he  think?  of  wealth  by 
the  class  of  people  to  whom  he  permits  its  pos- 
session." His  nobility,  they  of  whom  the  world 
was  not  worthy,  "were  stoned,  were  sawn  asun- 
der, were  tempted,  were  slain  with  the  sword; 
they  wandered  about  in  sheepskins,  and  goat- 
skins, being  destitute,  afflicted,  tormented." 

The  twelve,  to  whom  the  highest  possible 
honor  was  promised,  were  driven  from  place  to 
place  with  cruel  mockings  and  scourgings,  and 
all  but  one  sealed  their  testimony  with  their 
blood. 

Paul  the  noblest  of  them  all,  a  prince  of  the 
realm,  was  familiar  with  hunger,  and  nakedness, 
and  perils.  He  suffered  the  loss  of  all  things  for 
the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  ol  Christ. 
While  he  sat  in  the  dark  at  Damascus  he  was 
shown  how  great  things  he  must  suffer  for  the 
sake  of  the  Gospel.  And  the  Spirit  showed 
him  that  every-where  bonds  and  imprisonments 
awaited  his  coming.  When  we  surrender  to 
God  this  natural  desire  for  the  pleasant  things 
of  this  life  we  are  not  at  all  sure  but  he  may 
lead  us  to  an  apprehension  of  his  estimate  of 
human  circumstances  by  some  such  processes. 

If  one  is  permitted  to  keep  his  property  after 
accepting  the  divine  will  in  the  matter,  he  holds 


wmsmm^m:mt!imiii&^ 


t 


ne  one  lias  said, 
ik?  of  wealth  by 
;  permits  its  pos- 
whom  the  world 
were  sawn  asun- 
ivith  the  sword  ;^ 
skins,  and  goat- 
tormented." 
highest  possible 
n  from  place  to 
scourgings,  and 
lony  with  their 

,  a  prince  of  the 
and  nakedness, 
of  all  things  for 
:dge  ol  Christ, 
amascus  he  was 
st  suffer  for  the 
;  Spirit  showed 
!  imprisonments 
e  surrender  to 
pleasant  things 
lire  but  he  may 
his  estimate  of 
ich  processes. 
is  property  after 
natter,  he  holds 


SAVING  THE  LIFE. 


127 


it  no  longer  as  his  own,  but  always  subject  to 
tlie  order  of  God.  His  sense  of  ownership  is 
changed  to  a  simple  stewardship;  so  that,  though 
he  may  not  have  to  deed  it  away  to  a  Church  or 
charity,  it  is  as  certainly  given  up  as  if  it  had 
passed  out  of  his  hands.  All  this  implies  an 
immense  overturn  of  natural  tendencies,  and  the 
uprooting  of  habits  that  are  the  growth  of  years. 
No  wonder  it  is  called  a  crucifixion,  and  that  it 
seems  like  an  actual  losing  of  the  life. 

Closely  allied  to  our  desire  for  property  is 
our  wish  to  be  well  spoken  0/— highly  esteemed. 
This  also  must  be  surrendered.  And  in  it,  as 
in  the  other  points  of  character  that  have  been 
shaped  by  general  opinion,  we  may  expect  dis- 
cipline. They  said  of  our  Master,  "He  hath  a 
devil;"  and  he  says  to  us,  "The  disciple  is  not 
above  his  Lord." 

It  is  no  easy  matter  to  consent  to  be  led  di* 
rectly  against  the  opinions  of  those  to  whose 
judgment  we  have  been  accustomed  to  defen 
In  that  experience  we  begin  to  know  something 
of  the  weight  of  the  "cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  by  whom  the  world  is  crucified  unto  us 
and  we  unto  the  world." 

The  crucifixion  of  self-surrender  would  not  be 
so  hard  if  we  could  suffer  one  great  pang,  and 
have  done  with  it;  or  if,  in  the  submission,  we 


DIAMOND  DUST. 

might  SO  lose  our  free  agency  as  to  be  perfectly 
safe  from  ever  drawing  back  unto  perdition ;  or, 
if  we  could  look  our  last  upon  the  temptations 
of  the  world,  and  shut  ourselves  up  in  some 
sweet,  quiet  cloister,  where  there  would  be  only 
prayers  and  meditations  and  holy  offices.  But 
it  is  the  plan  of  God  that  \ye  shall  present  our 
bodies  a  living  sacrifice,  and  any  drawing  back 
will  abate  correspondingly  our  union  with  God, 
and  our  deadncss  to  the  world. 

And  just  here  we  note  one  of  the  paradoxes 
of  the  Gospel.  We  are  never  so  fully  and  com- 
pletely alive  as  when  we  are  dead.  We  have 
never  so  fully  the  symmetry  of  character,  the 
strength,  the  enjoyment,  the  assurance  of  living 
by  the  law  of  our  being,  the  certainty  of  suc- 
cess, as  when  we  have  surrendered  all  to  the 
Master. 

When  we  are  dead,  and  our  life  is  hid  with 
Christ  in  God,  we  are  most  keenly  alive  to  every 
worthy  interest,  we  have  the  most  glorious  full- 
ness of  existence. 

And  what  is  tlu  life  that  we  save  by  the  losing? 
It  is  primarily  the  spiritual  life,  and  it  de- 
pends upon  union  with  God.  The  original  life 
of  the  soul  was  forfeited  by  sin.  Grace  finds  us 
dead  in  trespasses  and  sins,  and  renews  in  us 
the  life  of  God.     We  live  this  life  more  or  less 


T. 

as  to  be  perfectly 
nto  perdition;  or, 
^  the  temptations 
lives  lip  in  some 
re  would  be  only 
xoly  offices.  But 
shall  present  our 
ny  drawing  back 
union  with  God, 

of  the  paradoxes 
5o  fully  and  corn- 
dead.  We  have 
of  character,  the 
surance  of  living 
certainty  of  suc- 
dered  all  to  the 

r  life  is  hid  with 
ily  alive  to  every 
ost  glorious  fuU- 

r'^' by  the  losing? 

life,  and  it  de- 
The  original  life 

Grace  finds  us 
id  renews  in  us 
ife  more  or  less 


SAVMG  rilE  LIFE. 


lap 


^ilsUWj^^i^r^,- ,  ,=^^;^ 


affluently  in  proportion  to  our  submission  to  the 
divine  will,  and  our  trust  in  the  atonement. 

When,  in  the  maturity  of  our  Christian  knowl- 
edge, we  accept  the  will  of  Christ  in  all  things, 
he  will  lead  us  not  only  to  completed  spiritual 
life;  he  will  also  give  us  the  best  physical  and 
mental  culture  possible. 

He  will  give  us  to  understand  that  when  our 
bodies  belong  to  him,  wc  must  take  care  of  them 
for  him,  and  see  that  they  subserve  to  their 
utmost  the  uses  of  the  mind  and  spirit.  We 
must  give  them  good  food,  not  to  pamper  false 
appetites,  but  to  keep  them  in  repair.  They 
must  have  enough  sleep,  and  only  as  much 
work  as  they  can  endure  with  safety.  Well- 
meaning  people  have  sometimes  cheated  God 
out  of  years  of  service  by  squandering  their 
strength  in  overwork,  or  by  crowdin  themselves 
through  the  drudgery  of  digesting  the  villain- 
ous compounds  known  as  good  fare,  or  by  some 
other  dissipation. 

When  we  comprehend  tha  our  bodies  are 
the  temples  of  the  Holy  Ghost  we  will  keep 
them  clean  as  well  as'  strong.  We  will  not 
drink  nor  chew  nor  smoke  poisons  that  not  only 
hurt  us,  but  make  us  offensive  to  others. 

And  it  is  doubted  whether  we  will  cut  holes 
in  our  noses  and  cars  for  the  hanging  on  of 


Iff 

ill 

■m 


130 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


pieces  of  metal   as   the   custom  is  in  heathen 
countries. 

We  will  stop  our  fretting  when  we  come  to 
know  that  the  investment  and  use  of  our  powers 
depend,  not  upon  our  puny  wisdom,  but  upon 
unmistaking,  divine  judgment.  We  will  cast  our 
care  on  Him  who  careth  for  us:  and  with  the 
care  all  taken  off  of  the  weak  nerves,  a  little 
physical  strength  can  be  made  to  go  a  great  way. 

When  our  mental  powers  are  taken  completely 
out  of  the  service  of  self  and  devoted  simply 
and  only  to  that  of  our  Heavenly  Father,  we  will 
comprehend  not  merely  our  privilege,  but  our 
duty  to  bring  them  to  the  greatest  strength. 

Satan  crowds  thoughtful  people  to  study,  that 
through  their  intellectual  attainments  they  may 
gain  money,  refinement,  luxuries,  reputation, 
and  friends.  After  grace  has  conquered  their 
ambition,  and  they  care  no  more  for  the  pride 
of  life,  he  holds  them  back  by  reminding  them 
how  much  good  has  been  done  by  people  of 
low  mental  attainment.  He  would  have  them 
believe  that  it  is  better  to  give  one's  self  wholly 
to  devotion. 

If  God  does  not  want  consecrated  thought 
to  be  developed  .in  strength,  why  has  he  given 
us  mental  acumen  above  the  simplest  uses? 
Certainly  the  very  best  of  every  thing  belongs 


■■■  -^ ;  Sg'*>S^4i  ^■'•^^'i^^^^i?J^?<mi<m^-^^H;qri'^.^k!:^^ 


w 


•  DUST. 

custom  is  in  heathen 

ting  when  we  come  to 
and  use  of  our  powers 
my  wisdom,  but  upon 
lent.     We  will  cast  our 
for  us:  and  with  the 
weak  nerves,  a  Httle 
lade  to  go  a  great  way. 
^s  are  taken  completely 
f  and  devoted  simply 
javenly  Father,  we  will 
our  privilege,  but  our 
greatest  strength, 
il  people  to  study,  that 
attainments  they  may 
luxuries,    reputation, 
has  conquered  their 
lo  more  for  the  pride 
k  by  reminding  them 
1  done  by  people  of 
He  would  have  them 
give  one's  self  wholly 

t  consecrated  thought 

th,  why  has  he  given 

the    simplest   uses? 

■  every  thing  belongs 


SAVING  THE  LIFE. 


I3» 


to  him,  and  nothing  can  transcend  in  polish  or 
strength  the  needs  of  his  work. 

He  wants  pictures  full  of  thought  and  feel- 
ing, so  delicately  traced  and  beautifully  limned 
that  they  shall  set  us  looking  toward  himself, 
the^  Source  and  Author  of  beauty.  He  wants 
poems  as  pure  and  strong  as  angels  winging 
their  way  into  the  homes  of  the  people,  and 
singing  God's  truth  into  needy  souls.  He  wants 
books,  vital  with  his  own  thought.  For  this 
very  purpose  he  has  made  artistic,  poetic,  and 
literary  talent. 

To  be  sure,  some  who  have  poor  grammar, 
false  rhetoric,  and  limping  logic  are  used  to  win 
thousands  to  Christ;  but  who  knows  how  much 
more  might  have  been  done  by  the  same  faith 
and  fervor  in  a  richly  endowed  and  well-disci- 
plined soul. 

Never  were  so  many  persons  converted  under 
one  sermon  as  under  that  of  Peter,  the  Galilean 
fisherman,  fresh  from  the  Pentecostal  bapfism. 
Yet,  afterward,  that  same  Peter  endangered  the 
very  life  of  the  infant  Church  by  truckling  to 
Judaizing  teachers.  Paul  had  to  withstand  him 
to  the  face,  because  he .  was  to  be  blamed. 
His  undisciplined  mind  did  not  carry  him 
through  the  task  of  settling  the  tenets  of  the 
new   faith.     It   was   Paul,  trained   in   the  best 


KB 


DIAMOND  DUST, 

schools,    who    was    used   of   God   to   give   the 
Church  its  theology. 

In  the  Anglican  revival  of  the  last  century  it 
was  not  the  fiery  eloquence  of  Whitefield,  who 
came  untrained  from  th*  common  people,  that 
organized  the  victory,  but  the  quiet,  steady, 
'scholastic  thought  of  Wesley  and  Clarke,  with 
their  broad  erudition  nnd  profound  culture. 

We  need  not  fear  intellectual  pride  while  we 
trust  Christ  to  save  us  from  sin.  At  all  events, 
his  salvation  is  our  hope  of  immunity  from  that, 
as  from  every  other  wrong  tendency.  No 
amount  of  personal  humiliation,  penance,  or. 
mind-starving  will  have  the  effect  to  keep  us 
humble  in  regard  to  mental  ability.  He  alone 
is  the  deliverer  from  evil. 

Above  all,  if  we  lose  our  life  by  surrendering 
it  to  God,  we  may  claim  and  expect  the  most 
thorough  discipline  and  complete  development; 
possibly  by  processes  not  such  as  we  would 
choose,  but  those  that  God  sees  best  fitted  to 
produce  the  result. 

We  will  have  to  learn  to  be  abased  before  it 
is  safe  for  us  to  abound.  It  took  eighteen 
years  to  bring  Columbus  to  nerve  and  daring 
enough  to  enable  him  to  discover  America. 
John  Bunyan  preached  like  a  son  of  thunder,  his 
soul  on  fire  with  zaal  for  the  salvation  of  the 


i 


r. 

rod   to   give   the 

he  last  century  it 
Whitefield,  who 
non  people,  that 
e  quiet,  steady, 
ind  Clarke,  with 
ind  culture, 
il  pride  while  we 
.  At  all  events, 
lunity  from  that, 
tendency.  No 
3n,  penance,  or, 
Feet  to  keep  us 
ility.     He  alone 

:  by  surrendering 
expect  the  most 
:e  development; 
h  as  we  would 
ss  best  fitted  to 

abased  before  it 
took  eighteen 
erve  and  daring 
cover  America. 
1  of  thunder,  his 
salvation  of  the 


SAVING  THE  LIFE. 


*33 


miserable  masses.  God  permitted  him  to  be 
shut  up  in  Bedford  jail  for  twelve  long  years. 
How  his  fiery  spirit  must  have  chafed!  The 
world  perishing,  and  he  utterly  powerless  to  help 
and  save!  But  the  result  of  that  burying  of 
energy  was  the  production  of  his  wonderful 
book,  which  has  acquired  an  authority  and  cir- 
culation next  only  to  the  Book  of  God. 

Wood  fire  must  be  pent,  buried  out  of  sight 
to  make  charcoal;  and  charcoal  has  to  be  shut  in 
the  very  heart  of  the  rock  to  crystallize  into  dia- 
monds. So,  when  our  life  is  given  to  God  we 
may  look  for  discipline  that  shall  seem  to  shut 
us  from  the  very  opportunities  we  ?eek.  but  we 
will  find  ultimately  that  it  was  administered  in 
the  highest  wisdom  to  bring  us  to  a  strength  and 
fullness  of  life  that  will  enable  us  to  do  the 
heavier,  higher  work. 

"  Pain's  furnace  blast  within  me  quivers ; 
God's  breath  upon  the  flame  doth  blow, 
And  all  my  heart  in  anguish  shirers, 
And  trembles  at  the  fiery  glow. 
And  yet  I  whisper,  'As  God  will,' 
And  in  his  hottest  fire  hold  still. 

lie  comes,  and  lays  my  heart,  all  heated 

On  his  hard  anvil,  minded  so 
Inlo  his  own  fair  shnpe  to  beat  it 
VVilh  hit  great  hammer,  blow  on  blow, 
And  yet  I  whisper,  'As  God  will,' 
And  'neaih  his  heaviest  blows  hold  still." 


M4 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


I    :' 

I.:  V 


\m. 


1  'fi 


Our  saved  life  will  be  hid  with  Christ  in  God. 
We  will  look  out  upon  the  petty  squabblings 
and  ambitions  of  the  people  as  the  mere  bicker- 
ings of  foolish  little  children. 

As  if  the  King  had  taken  us  into  his  palace 
and  given  us  costly  clothing  from  his  own  ward- 
robe, and  all  the  fine,  high  fellowship  of  the 
regal  life,  we  might  look  down  upon  the  peas- 
ants at  their  sports  upon  the  green  with  kindly, 
patient  charity,  remembering  the  days  when  we 
were  among  them,  and  as  full  of  eagerness  as 
any  in  the  small  emulations,  the  little  strivings 
for  superiority;  but  now  their  pastimes  have  no 
charm.  We  would  only  wish  that  we  could  win 
them  to  seek  the  royal  'avor,  and  trust  the 
royal  bounty  till  they,  too,  should  become  heirs 
of  the  kingdom,  joint  heirs  with  the  Great  Prince. 

And  what  companionship  would  be  ours — 
"with  Christ!"  what  a  secure  hiding-place, — 
"in  God!"  Our  "place  of  defense  the  muni- 
tions of  rocks!"  No  care  for  the  life  that  now 
is.  Our  "bread  shall  be  given"  us,  our  "waters 
shall  be  sure!"  And  for  the  eternal,  the  cease- 
less life,  our  "eyes  shall  sefc  the  King  in  his 
beauty.  We  shall  behold  the  land  that  is  very 
far  off!" 


COUKTEOUSNESS. 


«3S 


h  Christ  in  God. 
etty  squabblings 
the  mere  bicker- 

i  into  his  palace 
tn  his  own  ward- 
;ilowship  of  the 

upon  the  peas- 
een  with  kindly, 
e  days  when  we 

of  eagerness  as 
le  little  strivings 
astimes  have  no 
lat  we  could  win 
,  and  trust  the 
lid  become  heirs 
;he  Great  Prince, 
irould  be  ours — 

hiding-place, — 
fense  the  muni- 
lie  life  that  now 

us,  our  "waters 
ernal,  the  cease- 
he  King  in  his 
and  that  is  very 


,  6oi;i^ii»;oi;?]\f3Ej9? 

POLISHED  manners  are  not  usually  a  pass- 
port to  the  confidence  of  good  people,  be-^ 
cause  flatterers  and  diplomatists  depend  mainly 
upon  the  soft  address  for  their  power  to  deceive. 

The  aesthetic  has  been  the  bond  slave  of  evil 
passions,  and  the  good  have  come  to  dread  its 
potency.  Fine  culture  has  become  effeminacy, 
weakness,  voluptuousness.  Forever  in  the  his- 
torical rotati-  IS  the  cultured  have  become  the 
degenerate  and  a  prey  to  the  rough  and  uncouth 
who  are  strong  and  virtuous. 

Macedonian  abstinence  conquered  Persian 
magnificence.  Roman  discipline  ma3tered  the 
elegant  Greeks.  The  rugged  Norsemen  tram- 
pled down  that  polished  Roman  civilization. 

Reading  this  the  thoughtful  have  chosen  the 
safety  of  rough  virtue,  instead  of  the  weak  pol- 
ish of  culture.  The  studied  roughness  of  the 
Roundheads  followed  the  profligate  elegance  of 
the  cavaliers.  Puritan  angularities  are  a  swing- 
ing to  the  opposite  extreme  in  the  purpose  to 


W^iJi^ 


mmmmt 


iPi 


XS6 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


ill 


escape  the  sensuous  formalism  of  a  corrupt,  de- 
caying Church. 

Every  one  has  seen  enough  of  the  evil  do- 
ings of  especially  sntooth  people  to  make  him  sus- 
picious of  danger  when  there  is  in  the  manner  a 
suggestion  o{  finesse. 

There  are  snaky  people  who  can  turn  a  cor- 
ner as  easily  as  can  a  viper.  They  wriggle  into 
homes  with  their  fine,  obsequious  airs,  and  charm 
every  body  with  their  polite  attentions,  their  studi- 
ous care  of  the  good  feeling  of  all.  In  the  mean- 
time, they  are  carrying  out  their  deep-laid  plans 
for  self-aggrandizement,  and  secretly  stinging  to 
death  all  who  are  in  their  way.  The  honest, 
straightforward  folk  get  so  disgusted  with  these 
slimy,  viperous  methods,  that  they  come  to  sus- 
pect an  evil  motive  wherever  there  is  a  charming 
suavity.  They  swing  to  the  opposite  extreme, 
and  prefer  any  sort  of  brusqueness  to  what  they 
look  upon  as  dangerous  trickiness. 

There  are  none  whom  we  so  dread  as  the 
completely  selfish  and  unscrupulous  Becky 
Sharps,  and  the  crawling,  detestable  Uriah 
Heeps.  Yet  we  do  greatly  err  if  we  set  down 
every  expression  of  humility,  and  ^s^ry  kind, 
appreciative  utterance  to  the  score  of  a.  purpose 
to  wheedle  for  selfish  uses. 

As  the  years  clear  our  vision  we  come  to  un- 


'•l5«ifc',frB« 


COURT F.OUSNESS. 


»37 


of  a  corrupt,  de- 

i  of  the  evil  do- 
}  make  him  sus- 
in  the  manner  a 

I  can  turn  a  cor- 
hey  wriggle  into 
s  airs,  and  charm 
tions,  their  studi- 
1.  In  the  mean- 
•  deep-laid  plans 
retly  stinging  to 
r.  The  honest. 
Listed  with  these 
ley  come  to  sus- 
re  is  a  charming 
posite  extreme, 
;ss  to  what  they 
is. 

o  dread  as  the 
Lipulous  Becky 
^testable  Uriah 
if  we  set  down 
nd  ^very  kind, 
re  of  ar  purpose 

we  come  to  un- 


derstand that  right  and  wrong  lie  back  of  the 
exterior.  Chesterfieldian  manners  may  gloss 
black  intentions;  and  so  may  sanctimonious 
boorishness.  Blandness  of  address  is  not  of  ne- 
cessity a  badge  of  badness. 

!t  can  not  be  denied  that  there  are  false  court- 
esies that  are  used  to  win  the  regard  for  sheer, 
unmitigated  selfishness.  There  are  hypocrites 
who  steal  the  livery  of  heaven  to  serve  the  devil 
in.  There  are  chameleon-like  people  who  change 
the  color  of  their  coat  to  suit  the  preference  of 
the  company  into  which  they  may  chance  to 
fall.  There  are  the  courtier-like — those  who  re- 
semble the  sycophants  that  dance  attendance 
upon  royalty,  sunning  themselves  in  its  smile, 
and  slinking  away  from  its  frown.  Their  base- 
ness is  proverbial.  Indeed,  the  quality  under 
consideration— courteousness — takes  name  from 
the  same  source  that  gives  them  theirs,  hence, 
possibly,  a  little  of  the  suspicion  with  which  the 
sturdily  honest  receive  people  of  fine  manners. 

There  is,  also,  a  supercilious  counterfeit  of- 
courtesy  that  comes  rather  from  a  lack  of  appr2- 
hension  of  the  intrinsic  dignity  of  humanity,  and 
of  the  law  that  regulates  our  relation  to  others, 
than  from  malignant  selfishness.  A  man  wtio 
could  upon  no  account  forget  to  touch  his  hat 
to  a  lady,  and  yet  who  can  speak  roughly  to  a 


^mmmmmmm 


l«N 


«38 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


■f'i'ii) 


pauper's  child,  knows  nothing  of  true  politeness. 
A  woman  may  know  by  heart  the  rules  of  eti- 
quette— the  precise  number  of  steps  to  advance 
or  retire,  the  exact  curve  of  the  hand  and  bend 
of  the  head,  for  each  salutation,  and  a  faultless 
inflection  for  the  pretty  little  nothings  that  so- 
ciety dictates  for  this,  that,  or  the  other  occa- 
sion; and  yet,  if  she  speaks  abruptly  to  her 
sewing  girl,  sharply  to  her  children,  or  peevishly 
to  her  husband,  she  has  yet  to  learn  the  first 
principles  of  genuine  courtesy. 

The  very  fact  of  a  counterfeit  argues  the  ex- 
istence of  the  real;  and  the  free  use  of  the  spu- 
rious proves  the  possible  power  of  the  genuine. 
There  could  be  no  hypocrites  if  there  were 
no  Christians  to  imitate;  and  the  constant -use 
oi  finesse  demonstrates  that  abundant  influence  is 
secured  by  a  pleasant  address. 

When  one  handles  much  coin  he  comes  to 
know  the  counterfeit  by  the  touch,  the  ring,  the 
very  color.  Politeness  that  is  from  the  heart 
comes  to  be  generally  known  It  gives  rest  aad 
warmth  to  the  weary  and  heavy  laden. 

Heartless  courtesies  are  like  dead  things, 
stirring  with  a  galvanized  mockery  of  life.  The 
sensitive  soul  shrinks  from  them  as  we  do  from 
cold  worms  crawling  upon  the  flesh. 

True  courtesy  is  born  of  self-respect  and  charity. 


% 


CO  UR  TEO  VSNESS. 


»39 


r  true  politeness, 
the  rules  of  eti- 
teps  to  advance 
hand  and  bend 
,  and  a  faultless 
^things  that  so- 
the  other  occa- 
ibruptly  to  her 
en,  or  peevishly 
I  learn  the  first 

:  argues  the  ex- 
use  of  the  spu- 
of  the  genuine. 
:s  if  there  were 
le  constant  mse 
lant  influence  is 

n  he  comes  to 
h,  the  ring,  the 
from  the  heart 
t  gives  rest  and 
laden. 

;  dead  things, 
y  of  life.  The 
as  we  do  from 

5h. 

ect  and  charity. 


"Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself." 
The  entire  system  of  etiquette  is  epitomized  in 
that  sentence,  and  not  the  least  important  part 
of  it  is  the  last  clause — as  thyself.  It  presup- 
poses appreciation  of  personal  dignity. 

No  one  who  comprehends  his  relation  to  the 
Lord  of  gl<iry,  his  possible  coheirship  with 
Christ  to  an  "inheritance  incorruptible  and  un- 
deiiled.  and  that  fadeth  not  away,"  can  be  a 
cringing  sycophant.  No  one  with  a  sense  of 
the  dignity  of  redeemed  humanity  can  be  super- 
ciliously careless  of  the  right  to  kind  attention 
inherent  in  the  very  humblest  and  lowest.  He 
can  but  understand  that 

"Of  one  clay  God  mnde  us  all, 
And  though  men  pui>h  and  poke  and  paddle  in  't 
(As  children  play  at  fashioning  dirt  pies) 
And  call  their  fancies  by  the  name  of  facts, 
Assuming  difference,  lordship,  privilege, 
When  all's  plain  dirt — they  come  back  to  it  at  last; 
The  first  grave-digger  proves  it  with  a  spade 
And  pats  all  even.'* 

It  is  a  nice  thing  to  weigh  one's  own  capa- 
bilities and  adjust  one's  claim  to  respect.  Some 
people  are  in  a  perpetual  "claim  quarrel"  with 
society.  Their  demands  are  never  met;  and 
they  are  forever  in  a  grumble — disappointed,  un- 
depreciated. Of  necessity  such  fail  to  be  court- 
eous.    They  must  first  be  reconciled  to  those 


m^M 


wim 


iwmmk 


140 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


lil 


about  them  who,  as  they  say,  have  a  pique  at 
them,  and  then  they  can  treat  others  with  due 
civility. 

Others  undervalue  themselves,  though  they 
differ  widely  from  each  other  in  their  manner 
of  showing  their  self-depreciation.     They  may 
blunder  along  through  the  propri^ies,  violating 
each  principle,  because  they  so  constantly  dis- 
trust  their   own  judgment,   fear   to   take   their 
proper  place,  underrate  their  own  dignity.     In  a 
perpetual  purpose   to   get   to   the  foot  of  the 
class,  where,  they  seem  to  think,  they  are  pre- 
destined  to  stand,  they  incommode  the  whole 
line,  jostling  a  dozen  othew  out  of  place.     They 
make   distressing   efforts   to   be   agreeable,    but 
their  shortcomings  so  confuse  them  that  they  are 
in  a  ceaseless  flutter  of  apology.     They  never 
make  up  their  minds  to  do  a  thing  the  best  they 
can,  and  let  that  suffice— simply  and  plainly,  if 
!5imple  and  plain  has  been  their  culture. 

One  who  has  sufficient  insight  to  look  down 
through  outer  glosses  to  the  intrinsic  worth,  is 
never  at  a  loss  about  his  deportment.  If  he  is 
taken  into  a  circle  to  whose  formula  of  etiquette 
he  is  a  stranger  he  does  not  worry  every  body 
with  his  apologetic  nervousness.  He  is  simply 
and  quietly  himself.  He  does  not  compare  his 
appearance  with  that  of  those  about  him,  be- 


f 


have  a  pique  at 
others  with  due 

59,  though  they 
in  their  manner 
on.  They  may 
riq^ies,  violating 

constantly  dis- 
•  to  take  their 
n  dignity.  In  a 
he  foot  of  the 
c,  they  are  pre- 
lode  the  whole 
>f  place.     They 

agreeable,  but 
m  that  they  are 
r.  They  never 
ig  the  best  they 
and  plainly,  if 
ultnre. 

t  to  look  down 
rinsic  worth,  is 
ment.  If  he  is 
jlas  of  etiquette 
riy  every  body 
He  is  simply 
>t  compare  his 
ibout  him,  be- 


COUHTEOUSNESS. 


141 


cause  he  understands  that  the  difference  between 
social  castes  is  very  slight,  at  most.  He  sees 
that  all  are  poor,  weak  humans  together,  each 
acting  his  role  in  the  drama  of  probation,  under 
his  lidless  eye  whose  judgment  alone  is  final, 
and  who  notes,  not  the  folds  of  the  drapery,  nor 
the  pose  of  the  head,  but  the  thought,  the  spirit, 
the  inner  life.  He  knows  that  humanity  is  too 
great  to  be  cramped  down  to  the  petty  outside 
measurements  that  prevail  among  weak-headed 
snobs. 

•'  I*  tlteie  for  lioneit  poverty 
't'lint  liaiigR  hit  heml,  and  n'  ilmt  ? 
Tlie  coward  »l«ve, — we  pass  him  by, 
We  dnre  be  poor,  for  a'  titti  I 
For  a*  that,  and  a   that. 
Our  toils  obscure,  and  a'  that ; 
The  rank  is  but  the  guinea's  stamp  j 
The  man  '•  the  gowd  for  a*  that. 

What  tho'  on  hamely  fare  we  dine, 

Wear  hodden-grey,  and  a'  that, 

Gie  fools  their  silks,  and  knaves  their  wine, 

A  man 's  a  man  for  a'  that. 

For  a'  that,  and  a*  that, 

Their  tinsel  show,  and  a'  that;  , 

The  honest  man,  t!io'  e'er  sae  poor, 

Is  king  o'  men,  for  a'  that. 

A  prince  can  make  a  belted  knight, 

A  marquis,  duke,  and  a'  that ; 

But  an  honest  man 's  aboon  his  might, 

Guid  faith  he  mauna  fa'  that  1 

For  a'  that,  and  a'  that. 

Their  dignities  and  a'  that, 


I4«  DIAMOND  DUST. 

The  pilh  o'  leiise,  niiil  pride  o'  worth 
Are  higher  rniik*  than  a'  thnl. 

Then  let  ui  prny  that  unine  it  may, 
Ai  come  it  will,  fur  a'  thnl,  \ 

That  «enM  and  worth  o'er  a'  the  earth 
*  May  bear  the  gree,  niul  a'  thai. 

For  a'  that,  and  a'  that, 
It  '■  coming  yet,  for  a'  that, 
That  man  to  man  the  wide  world  o'er 
Khali  brother  be,  for  a'  that." 

Cailyle's  description  of  Burns' s  visit  to  Edtih 
burgh  iliusUates  the  genuine  humility  and  manli- 
ness of  the  man  who  believed  in  the  essential 
worth  of  manhood. 

"This  month  he  is  a  ruined  peasant,  his 
wages  seven  pounds  a  year,  and  these  gone  from 
him ;  next  month  he  is  in  the  blaze  of  rank  and 
beauty,  handing  jeweled  du(:hesses  down  to  din- 
ner, the  cynosure  of  all  eyes  !  We  admire  much 
the  way  in  which  Burns  met  all  this.  Tranquil, 
unastonished,  not  abashed,  not  inflated ;  neither 
awkwardness  nor  aflectation,  he  feels  that  fu  there 
is  the  man  Robert  Burns ;  that  '  the  rank  is  but 
the  guinea's  stamp,  that  the  celebrity  is  but  the 
candle  light  which  will  show  what  man,  not  in 
the  least  make  him  a  better  or  other  man  I  Alas, 
it  may  readily,  unless  he  look  to  it,  make  him  a 
worse  man,  a  wretched,  inflated  wind-bag,  inflated 
till  he  burst  and  become  a  dead  lion. " 


COU'^'^USNESS. 


»43 


o'  worth 
tt. 

It  may, 

'  the  earth 

mt. 


vorld  o'er 


ns's  -visit  to  Edith 
imility  and  manli- 
I  in  the  essential 

ined  peasant,  his 
1  these  gone  from 
blaze  of  rank  and 
>ses  down  to  din- 
We  admire  much 
1  this.     Tranquil, 

inflated ;  neither 
feels  that  he  there 

'  the  rank  is  but 
lebrity  is  but  the 
vhat  man,  not  in 
ther  man  I  Alas, 
o  it,  make  him  a 
wind-bag,  inflated 
lion." 


Why  should  vvi  jf*  ^nd  cringe  before  those 
who  may  iiavc  had  bettor  food  and  clothing, 
higher-priced  teachers,  and  more  leisure  than 
we  ?  By  God's  standard  our  fare  and  our  rai- 
ment, our  lessons  and  wisdom  may  be  by  far  the 
costliest  and  the  best.  The  world's  methods  of 
measurement  are  all  wrong.  Let  us  learn  to  live 
by  God's  rule. 

There  have  been  various  christenings  of  that 
lack  of  independence  that  makes  plain  people  ill 
at  ease  in  the  presence  of  those  who  seem  to  b'' 
of  more  consequence.  It  is  tenderly  ycleped 
timidity,  or  bashfulness — ntauvaise  honte  in  hon- 
est French. 

However  it  may  be  disguised,  it  is  execrable, 
and  betrays  a  weak  character.  The  man  who  takes 
on  the  crawling  order  of  conduct,  not  quite  sure 
in  certain  society  that  he  has  a  right  to  be  in 
the  world  at  all,  is  certainly  deficient  in  self- 
respect.  He  is  a  coward,  and  that  means  that  he 
would  be  a  tyrant  if  he  happened  to  get  an  up- 
ward tilt.  Coward  and  tyrant  are  interchangea- 
ble terms,  because  both  are  based  upon  a  wrong 
notion  of  the  worth  that  inheres  in  a  Christ-re- 
deemed being,  whether  1  e  be  wrapped  in  calico 
or  satin,  in  coarse  muscle  or  fine,  in  abrupt  man- 
ners or  delicate  address. 

I  know  a  man   who  sidles  in   and  out  of  •a 


DIAMOND  DUST. 

room  to  take  iip  the  less  space,  like  Dickens's  Mr. 
Chillip,     He  sits  down  in  the  most  out  of  the 
way  corner,  tucks  his  feet  under  his  chair,  folds 
up  his  little  frame  like  a  pocket-lantern,  and  slips 
in  his  uncertain  sentences  with  a  wheedling  sim- 
per, as  though  it  was  the  height  of  superlative 
goodness  that  permits  him  to  open  his  unworthy 
I«ps.    It  is  impossible  to  draw  from  him  a  straight- 
fprward  opinion  even  upon  no  more  complicated 
a  question  than  the  state  of  the  weather.     He 
means  to  be  truthful,  but  let  one  ask  him,  if  it 
isn't   raining;    "  Why— yes-he  guesses-to  be 
sure— you  know— well,  it  must  be— it  is,"  though 
a  blink  of  sunshine  through  a  bljnd  that  very 
minute  contradicts  his  wriggling  answer. 

A  dozen  others  who  are  not  one  whit  more 
sure  of  themselves,  don  a  brazen  mask,  a'nd  try 
to  brace  up  by  putting  on  independent  airs. 
They  are  'ike  the  silly  people  who  starve  them- 
selves  In  t.  -ir  thread-bare  attempts  at  "keeping 
up  appearan  »s."  They  bluster,  and  stamp,  and 
talk  loud,  and  ;talk  through  the  room,  lords  of  the 
manor  surely!  What  do  they  care  for  rules  ?  Eti- 
quette, indeed!  Superior  to  all  such  twaddle! 
After  all  their  bravado  they  are  not  much  unlike 
the  scared  little  man  who  smirks  in  your  face  so 
provokinjiy. 

I  know  another,   of  humble  parentage  and 


D  DVST. 

space,  like  Dickens's  Mr. 
in  the  most  out  of  the 
it  under  his  chair,  folds 
pocket-lantern,  and  slips 
s  with  a  wheedling  sim- 
le  height  of  superlative 
n  to  open  his  unworthy 
raw  from  him  a  straight- 
>n  no  more  complicated 
:  of  the  weather.     He 
t  let  one  ask  him,  if  It 
I'es — he  guesses — to  be 
must  be— it  is,"  though 
ugh  a  bljnd  that  very 
iggling  answer, 
ire  not  one  whit  more 
I  brazen  mask,  a"nd  try 

on  independent  airs. 
:ople  who  starve  them- 
attempts  at  "keeping 
)luster,  and  stamp,  and 
li  the  room,  lords  of  the 
ley  care  for  rules  ?  Eti- 

to  all  such  twaddle! 
;y  are  not  much  unlike 
smirks  in  your  face  so 

lumble  parentage  and 


COURTEOUSNESS.  ,45 

narrow  culture,  a   "working  man."  and  withal 
a  gentlemen.     He  is  at  home  in  any  society  be- 
cause  he  is  not  ashamed  to  be  his  plain,  excel- 
lent   .self,    faultlessly  polite,   because  dignifiedly 
self-forgetting  and  kind.     He  is  no  doubt  inno- 
cently Ignorant  of  some  of  the  flourishes  that  pass 
for  politeness  with  shoddy  gentility,  yet  there  is 
not  a  requirement  of  genuine  courtesy  that  he 
does  not  understand  intuitively,  through  his  com- 
mon sense,  his  self  respect,  and  his  wish  to  make 
others  happy. 

Politeness  is  only  a  pleasant  name  for  justice 
and  one  can  but  be  just  if  he  has  ample  Christian 
charity.     No  one  with  the  tender  love  of  tlie  Re- 
deemer pulsating  through  his  soul  can  be  other- 
wise than  kindly  just. 

This  genuine  courtesy  is  beautifully  amplified 
in  the  thirteenth  chapter  of  First  Corinthians. 
The  love  that  beareth  all  things,  hopeth  all  things, 
endureth  all  things,  does  not  flame  up  at  every 
slight.     It  remembers  that  when  one  seems  care- 
less and  negligent  of  the  attentions  that  he  ought 
to  bestow,  it  is  not  impossible  that  a  secret  agony 
IS  gnawing  his  heart  like  the  vulture  at  Prome- 
theus's  liver.     It  does  not  shy  those  who  seem 
distant  and  indifferent.     It  gives  them  the  ben- 
efit of  the  doubt,  and  determines,  at  all  events 
to  keep  its  own  temper  generous  and  genial.' 

10 


S»*«iJMi«'4K*teKK*fesfe  ■  -SMSiM^iim-  '  '.m#%^B-s»mi!iimi'ii«Ximsi^i&xmim-v 


146 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


Ten  to  one  its  aflability  will  win  its  way  into  the 
confidence  and  warmth  of  the  most  hopeless  and 
unpromising  reticence.  Even  churlishness  will 
have  to  give  way  before  its  quiet  radiance. 

Courtesy  belongs  to  civilizaiion.  Among  sav- 
ages its  demands  are  met,  in  the  main,  if  each 
lets  his  neighbor's  scalp  alone,  and  keeps  his 
tomahawk  out  of  the  other's  brain.  As  the  so- 
cial network  grows  complicated  and  interlaced, 
courtesy  must  keep  pace  with  the  need  of  inter- 
course, making  it  agreeable.  It  is  of  practic^il 
use  in  every-day  life.  Like  the  oil  that  lubricites 
the  machinery,  or  the  rubber  pad  upon  the  axle, 
it  eases  the  jolts  of  the  rough,  hard-going  cir- 
cumstances that  are  posting  us  through  the 
world. 

Courtesy  is  like  the  spring  check  upon  a  brake, 
causing  the  train  to  stop  by  littles  and  not  with 
a  jerk  tliat  would  send  the  passengers  flying  out 
of  the  windows  or  up  through  the  roof.  With 
due  attention  to  the  suaviter  in  modo  one  can  use 
the  fortiter  in  re  with  safety.  It  is  the  iron  hand 
in  the  velvet  glove  that  grasps  firmly  and  with- 
out harm  to  the  subject. 

At  best  this  is  an  put-of-joint  world.  All 
are  burdened  and  weary.  Courtesy  iightetis  the 
loads  and  medicines  the  weariness.  It  is  like 
fresh  flowers,  cooling  drinks,  and  soft  music  in  a 


An  its  way  into  the 
most  hopeless  and 
1  churlishness   will 
Liiet  radiance. 
tion.     Among  sav- 
the  main,  if  each 
ne,  and  keeps  his 
brain.     As  the  so- 
ted  and  interlaced, 
the  need  of  inter- 
It  is  of  practiciil 
e  oil  that  lubricates 
pad  upon  the  axle, 
jh,  hard-going  cir- 
l   us   through    the 

:heck  upon  a  brake, 
ittles  and  not  with 
ssengers  flying  out 
[h  the  roof.  With 
n  modo  one  can  use 
It  is  the  iron  hand 
js  firmly  and  with- 

►f-joint  world.  All 
'curtesy  lightens  the 
iriness.  It  is  like 
and  soft  music  in  a 


COURTEOUSNESS.  j^y" 

Sick-room.  Though  it  may  not  have  healing 
power  in  itself,  it  soothes  the  worn  nerves,  and 
prepares  the  way  for  more  potent,  remedial 
agents. 

Much  of  our  suffering  is  unreal.  We  are  like 
children  who  shiver  in  tlic  dark  for  fear  of  In- 
dians that  are  beyond  the  Mississippi.  We  con- 
jure up  wraiths  of  possible  trouble  and  have  the 
gloom  about  us  all  a-mutter  with  dread  may- 
happens. 

A  nervous  man's  note  is  protested  a  dozen 
times  in  his  imagination  when  it  is  once  really  in 
danger.     A  fidg-ij   ^ro.nan's  child  falls  into  the 
nver  twenty  time-         ;  er  fancy,  and   she  suf- 
fers all  the  agony  ,  ing  him  drown,  except ' 
the  certainty,  while  the  little  fellow  is  having  a 
merry  time  at  making  mud  pies  on  the  bank.    We 
suffer  as  certainly  and  sometimes  as  keenly  from 
these  unreal  sorrows  as  if  thfy  were  actual;  and 
we  need  kindly  patience  and  /brbearance  to  stim- 
ulate and  strengthen  the  mind  to  more  healthful 
action.     It  is  enough  to  drive  one  insane  to  be 
treated  with  abruptness  and  severity  by  some 
wise,  coolheaded  superior  who  sees  the  fallacy  of 
the  foreboding  and  is  out  of  patience  because  jve 
are  so  foolish. 

When  great  griefs  and  bereavements  come 
upon  us  and  we  stagger  and  grope  through  the 


ba'vJiiaiiiiriiTTiaiwiiiwwmiwi^^^ 


148 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


{    * 


loneliness  of  the  empty  rooms,  the  "  small,  sweet 
courtesies  "  make  us  forget  for  the  moment 

"  The  ailence  'gainst  which  we  dare  not  cry, 
That  aches  around  us  like  a  strong  disease  and  new." 

We  owe  all  people  courteousness,  be  they  black 
or  white,  base-born  or  high-bred,  possible  or  real 
disciples  of  our  Lord. 

The  flower  lifting  its  bright  face  by  the  way- 
side owes  me  as  much  of  beauty  and  fragrance 
as  the  Good  Father  has  given  me  an  order  for, 
and  the  bird  owes  me  a  daily  installment  of  heart- 
helping  song.  I  owe  every  man,  woman,  and 
child  with  whom  I  have  contact  a  word,  a  look, 
or  a  thought  of  kh-<dness. 

Many  of  the  well-dressed,  pleasant-faced  peo- 
ple that  we  meet  are  carrying  about  "a  lumpish, 
leaden,  aching  thing  in  place  of  a  heart."  Do 
we  not  owe  them  sweet  charity?  Do  we  go 
shouting  and  stamying^  through  a  hospital  where 
men  and  women  are  lying  with  aching  heads  and 
throbbing  nerves  ? 

Christ  teaches  us  to  care  for  all  who  suffer, 
hence  genuine  Christians  obey  the  apostolic  in- 
junction, "Be  courteous,"  as  certainly  as  they 
confess  their  sins  and  pray  for  pardon. 

True  courteousness  is  an  outgrowth  of  piety. 
Said  a  sharp-eyed  worldling  of  a  professor  of 
religion,  "You  can't  make  me  believe  that  that 


'ST. 

the  ' '  small,  sweet 
r  the  moment 

■e  not  cry, 

ig  disease  nnd  new." 

sness,  be  they  black 
ed,  possible  or  real 

it  face  by  the  way- 
auty  and  fragrance 
n  me  an  order  for, 
nstallment  of  heart- 
man,  woman,  and 
act  a  word,  a  look, 

pleasant-faced  peo- 
about  ' '  a  lumpish, 
;  of  a  heart."  Do 
arity?  Do  we  go 
^h  a  hospital  where 
:h  aching  heads  and 

for  all  who  suffer, 
;y  the  apostolic  in- 
s  certainly  as  they 
r  pardon. 

outgrowth  of  piety. 

of  a  professor  of 
le  believe  that  that 


CO  UR  TEO  USNESS. 


149 


man  is  a  Christian.  He  is  too  rude;  Christians 
have  better  manners."  If  there  were  no  social 
ban  upon  boorishness,  God's  tender  sympathies 
in  the  soul  would  make  one  courteous. 

Nowhere  is  politeness  more  necessary  than 
in  the  church,  where  gentle-souled  Christians 
meet  to  worship  the  kind  God. 

I  have  seen  a  strange  thing  under  the  sun — 
strange  and  sad,  A  drunkaid's  wife,  weary  with 
the  wretchedness  and  wrangling  of  her  hut,  has 
gone  to  God's  house  in  vague  hope  of  getting 
help  to  bear  her  burdens.  Finding  herself  so 
shabby  among  the  comfortable  Christians,  she 
has  slipped  into  a  pew,  when  a  high-headed  dis- 
ciple of  the  crucified  Galilean  has  driven  her 
from  the  seat  with  a  stony  stare  or  a  haughty 
gesture.  Then  there  has  echoed  through  my 
soul  the  cry  from  Calvary,  "They  know  not 
what  they  do  1"  Better,  a  thousand  times  better, 
to  go  down  into  the  sea  with  a  millstone  about 
the  neck  than  to  offend  one  of  Christ's  little  ones. 

I  have  seen  a  Magdalen  upon  whose  heart 
had  fallen  the  softening  rain  of  God.  As  she 
wfent  forth  to  seek  a  better  life,  she  was  met  by 
a  woman  who  drew  aside  to  avoid  contact  with 
the  penitent,  and  whose  ^scourge  of  silent  scorn 
turned  the  wretched  feet  again  toward  hell! 
The  blood  of  that   woman's   baleful   perishing 


iaL««&&»IAn£^ili^£i»ii!£^V^&wSi)^!isi^^ 


ISO 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


could  but  rest  upon  the  head  of  her  Christian 
sister  I 

We  must  give  to  all  kindly  courtesy,  for  we 
may  never  know  their  sore  need;  but,  above 
every  thing,  we  must  be  courteous  toward  those 
who  are  in  our  oum  homes.  Nowhere  else  is  the 
lack  of  politeness,  kindness,  considerateness,  so 
keenly  felt. 

Weary  with  the  cares  and  worry  of  life,  we 
rest  in  our  homes,  having  laid  by  our  armor;  so 
it  is  easy  to  gall  us  with  rough  words  and  coarse, 
unkind  acts. 

Incivilities  in  the  home  are  like  sand  in  the 
eyes,  and  gravel  in  the  shoes.  No  wonder  they 
who  have  only  sour  looks  and  cross  words  where 
they  ought  to  receive  loving  sympathy  and  care, 
are  easily  lured  to  destruction. 

Some  people  treat  casual  acquaintances  with 
more  courtesy  than  they  use  toward  their  near- 
est friends.  One-half  of  the  incivilities  tliey 
fling  right  and  left,  every  hour,  when  free  from 
the  restraint  of  the  public  eye,  if  indulged  else- 
where, would  destroy  every  friendship  they  have 
outside  the  enduring  home  bond. 

Savages  sometimes  tie  an  enemy  to  a  tree  as 
a  target  for  bow  and  arrow  practice;  and  yet 
there  is  a  more  cruel  barbarism  even  in  civilized 
homes.     You  may  bind  one  to  yourself  with 


.«r 


I  of  her  Christian 


'  courtesy,  for  we 
leed;  but,  above 
;ous  toward  those 
>where  else  is  the 
onsiderateness,  so 

worry  of  life,  we 
by  our  armor;  so 
words  and  coarse, 

like  sand  in  the 

No  wonder  they 

:ross  words  where 

mpathy  and  care, 

cquaintances  with 

oward  their  near- 
incivilities    tJiey 

',  when  free  from 
if  indulged  else- 

;ndship  they  have 

d. 

lemy  to  a  tree  as 

)ractice;  and  yet 
even  in  civilized 

to  yourself  with 


CO  UR  TEO  USNESS. 


»5« 


promises  of  lifelong  love  and  cherishing,  and 
then  vent  upon  the  luckless  head  your  superflu- 
ous cruelty.  By  and  by  you  will  he  unable  to  do 
your  outside  work,  and  you  v  ler  e  rest 
and  tenderness  that  are  found  nowhere  ^  side 
heaven,  except  in  a  good  home.  Then  the  love 
that  should  have  helped  you  bear  the  weariness 
and  infirmities  of  age  is  scarred  and  withered 
and  dead.  No  upbraidings,  it  is  what  it  is  on 
account  of  your  own  roughness  and  unkindness. 

Some  treat  their  children  almost  brutally,  be- 
cause the  poor,  helpless  things  are  in  their 
power.  They  forget  that  the  harsh,  cutting, 
bitter  words  that  they  throw  around  so  reck- 
lessly, day  by  day,  will  be  paid  back,  by  and  by, 
with  compound  interest.  When  one  is  old  and 
crippled  and  broken,  his  children  may  do  pre- 
cisely as  he  did  when  he  had  the  vigor,  and  they 
the  helplessness.  They  will  be  respectful  enough 
before  folks,  too  proud  to  be  caught  using  rude- 
ness toward  the  decrepit  old  father;  but  when 
they  are  alone  with  him,  if  they  have  a  touch 
of  indigestion,  or  a  business  bother,  then  see 
how  the  hard,  hateful  words  rattle  abotit  his 
helpless  head.  Does  he  recognize  his  own 
severe  sayings  of  long  years  before?  Whatso- 
ever a  man  soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap. 

Some  parents  love  their  children  violently. 


MWMWWIBKWWIIillltliWW 


»Sa 


DIAMO.WD  DUST. 


They  will  do  any  tlung  for  them  but  restrain 
their  own  savage  instincts;  and  so,  unwittingly, 
they  develop  in  them  a  harshness  and  hateful- 
ness  that  will  plant  with  thorns  the  path  toward 
the  sunset. 

Children  have  rights  that  parents  are  bound 
to  respect.  They  are  as  certainly  entitled  to 
courtesy  and  kindness  as  are  parents.  The  in- 
justices  practiced  upon  them  will  be  repaid  by 
them  when  they  come  to  power. 

Who  doe.s  not  love  to  recall  the  pretty 
Quaker  home  in  "Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,"  with 
the  gentle  mother  directing  the  merry,  young 
people  with  her  kind,  "Hadn't  thee  better  do 
so  and  so  ?"  Where  in  this  wide  world  is  courtesy 
so  beautiful  or  so  useful  as  in  the  household? 

Sometimes  brothers  and  sisters  are  more 
ashamed  of  a  caress  than  of  a  cross  word.  If 
they  were  caught  hurling  at  each  other  a  biting 
criticism,  they  would  not  be  half  as  much  em- 
barrassed as  they  would  over  a  kind  com- 
mendation. 

I  was  taking  vocal  music  lessons  once  with  a 
young  lady  of  her  brother.  They  were  pleasant 
young  people,  and  they  thought  enough  of  each 
other,  yet  I  noticed  that  he  used  little  incivili- 
ties toward  her  that  would  have  finished  my 
lessons  at  once  if  he  had  ventured  to  address 


■-***&■, 


■■■IIH 


them  but  restrain 
id  so,  unwittingly, 
hness  and  hateful- 
IS  the  path  toward 

parents  are  bound 
'tainly  entitled  to 
parents.  The  in- 
will  be  repaid  by 
er. 

recall  the  pretty 
m's  Cabin,"  with 
the  merry,  young 
I't  thee  better  do 
s  world  is  courtesy 
the  household? 
sisters  are  more 
a  cross  word.  If 
ich  other  a  biting 
lialf  as  much  em- 
^er    a    kind   com- 

issons  once  with  a 
'hey  were  pleasant 
lit  enough  of  each 
ised  little  incivili- 
have  finished  my 
ntured  to  address 


COURTEOUSXESS, 

me  in  the  same  manner.  I  said  to  him  one  day, 
after  one  of  his  usual  sharp  cuts  at  her  dullness, 
"You  don't  like  your  sister  as  well  as  you  do 
me?"  He  stared  a  moment.  "Of  course  I  do. 
I  think  enough  of  her.  Why?"  "Oh,  noth- 
ing, only  you  never  scold  me  when  I  make  a 
blunder.  You  smooth  it  over  very  nicely;  but 
if  Lizzie  sings  wrong,  you  say  so  sharply,  '  Now, 
what  did  you  sing  that  way  for?  I  Ve  told  you 
better  than  that  more  than  a  dozen  times.'  '* 

Many  a  girl  whose  brothers  would  do  aiy 
thing  and  every  thing  for  her  happiness  except 
treat  her  with  the  civility  they  are  ready  to  use 
toward  every  other  young  lady,  is  driven  into  an 
unfortunate  marriage  hoping  to  find  that  respect 
and  attention  that  we  all  prize  so  highly  in  the 
home. 

And  ten  chances  to  one  she  fails  in  her  mat- 
rimonial venture.  Tlieie  are  men  who  visit 
every  little  dotnestic  mishap  and  delinquency,  the 
loss  of  a  button,  a  rip  in  a  f  iove,  an  accident  to 
the  morning  paper,  with  an  avalanche  of  sharp 
words  as  bitter  and  biting  as  a  j^arch  hail-storm. 
Some  put  more  gentleness  into  the  voice  when 
they  address  any  living  being  whom  it  is  to  their 
interest  to  please,  than  they  use  in  speaking  to 
the  wife  of  a  dozen  years.  When  the  back  of 
the  dear  public  is  turned  they  do  not  hesitate  to 


»S4 


DiAMOND  DUST, 


practice  toward  her  a  thousand  little  abruptnesses, 
any  one  of  which,  before  marriage,  would  have 
made  a  decided  change  in  their  relations. 

Not  every  woman  is  so  fortunate  as  the 
Scotch  lassie  who,  standing  before  the  minister 
with  her  laddie,  declined  to  promise  obeHience. 
After  two  or  three  unsuccessful  attempts  to  ad- 
just the  matter  satisfactorily,  the  clergyman  hes- 
itated. "Ne'er  mind,"  said  Sandy;  "I  maun 
see  to  the  '  obey  '  if  there  be  strength  i'  this  guid 
right  arm."  "  Sae  that 's  to  be  the  tune,"  quoth 
the  bonny  lass;  "  weel,  then,  guid  day,"  and 
she  left  him  to  seek  a  spouse  that  he  could  gov- 
ern with  less  trouble. 

Many  a  man  who  would  scorn  to  lay  the 
weight  of  a  finger  upon  his  wife  in  temper,  shows 
upon  small  occasions  of  annoyance  a  petulance 
that  hurts  worse  than  a  blow.  Many  a  woman 
who  is  ready  to  sacrifice  to  the  utmost  for  her 
husband's  comfort,  denies  him  the  kindness  of 
address  and  manner  that  she  recognizes  it  her 
duty  to  bestow  upon  all  besides. 

Only  at  home,  where  courteousness  is  most 
needed,  can  it  be  properly  learned.  Let  boys  as 
well  as  girls  be  taught  genuine  politeness.  There 
is  nv*  reason  why  "that  boy"  should  be  per- 
mitted to  be  a  boor,  while  all  pains  are  taken 
to  make  his  sister  a  lady.     If  she  needs  gentle- 


J^ 


ttle  abruptnesses, 
iage,  would  have 

relations.  i 

fortunate  as  the 
fore  the  minister 
omise  obeHience. 
1  attempts  to  ad- 
e  clergyman  hes- 
andy;  "I  maun 
ongth  i'  this  guid 
the  tune,"  quoth 

guid  day,"  and 
lat  he  could  gov- 

scorn  to  lay  the 
in  temper,  shows 
mce  a  petulance 
Many  a  woman 
!  utmost  for  her 
the  kindness  of 
ecognizes  it  her 

ousness  is  most 
id.  Let  boys  as 
oliteness.  There 
should  be  per- 
pains  are  taken 
le  needs  gentle- 


CO  Uti  TEO  USNESS. 


15S 


ness  and  iclf-control  for  the  work  of  life,  so  does 
he.  The  day  is  passing  by  when  men  are  to  be 
as  coarse  and  rough  as  savages  with  a  little  awk- 
ward polish  for  court  occasions,  while  women 
must  be  always  obsequious  and  amiable.  In  the 
better  time  there  will  be  no  abatement  of  the  oest 
ideal  of  womanly  self-sacrifice  and  meekness,  and 
yet  the  r$U  of  angelhood  will  not  be  monopolized 
by  her ;  it  will  be  understood  that  it  is  also  good 
for  men  to  "be  courteous,"  and  to  "be  kind 
one  to  another,  tender-hearted,  forgiving  one 
another,  even  as  God  for  Christ's  sake  hath  for- 
given" them;  "With  all  lowliness  and  meek- 
ness, with  long  suffering,  forbearing  one  another 
in  love." 

Courtesy  must  be  taught  like  music,  begin- 
ning as  early  as  possible.  If  you  begin  to  teach 
your  daughter  music  when  she  is  nearly  grown 
it  will  take  a  deal  of  practice  to  make  her  even 
a  passable  player.  But  let  her  tiptoe  up  to  the 
piano  and  strike  the  keys  as  soon  as  she  cai\, 
.^nd  alone,  and  she  will  grow  up,  other  things 
being  equal,  its  mistress. 

If  we  would  have  our  children  courteous,  we 
must  begin  with  them  early,  and  teach  them  by 
exaniple  as  well  as  by  dictation. 

Gentle  manners  are  beautiful,  and  there  is 
always  power  in  beauty.     The  touch  of  the  sun- 


rftfJliilfjJUWrigiwfgtfiiriffii  tl 


KMMMa 


156 


DIAMOND  DVSr. 


beam  moves  the  granite  column  far  more  surely 
than  does  the  wrench  of  the  tornado.  Harmo- 
nies of  color,  rliytlim  of  movement,  and  melody 
of  voice  sway  the  .soul  with  surer  strength  than 
can  the  force  of  reason  or  the  grip  cf  law.  Let 
us  be  no  longer  afraid  of  what  is  beautiful  be- 
cause the  children  of  this  world,  always  wiser 
than  the  children  of  light,  have  prostituted  it  to 
base  purposes.  Let  us  conscript  all  beauty  and 
elegance,  and  give  it  Christian  baptism,  and  set 
it  at  work  to  help  on  the  right. 

Under  the  old  typical  law  the  firstlings  and 
those  without  spot  or  blemish  were  used  in  sac- 
rifice. Time  will  come  when  the  best  music  need 
not  be  sought  in  the  opera,  the  best  art  where  it 
represents  pagan  or  Christian  idolatry,  the  best 
poetry  in  the  service  of  Bacchus,  Venus,  or 
Mars.  «•  The  earth  is  Jehovah's,  and  the  fullness 
thereof,"  and  the  day  is  dawning  when  the  long 
arrears  are  to  be  collected. 

The  beautiful  must  be  set  free  from  its  old 
associations,  and,  with  the  chrism  of  Christ  upon 
its  forehead,  it  must  be  wedded  to  the  true  and 
the  good.  Then  may  he  who  embodies  all  har- 
mony and  beauty  and  excellence  reign  over  a 
regenerated  realm. 


itiHi 


r, 

n  far  more  surely 
tornado.  Harino- 
nent,  and  melody 
irer  strength  than 
grip  cf  law.  Let 
It  is  beautiful  be- 
rld,  always  wiser 
s  prostituted  it  to 
pt  all  beauty  and 
baptism,  and  set 

the  firstlings  and 
ivere  used  in  sac- 
e  best  music  need 
best  art  where  it 
dolatry,  the  best 
chus,  Venus,  or 
I,  and  the  fullness 
ig  when  the  long 

free  from  its  old 
ti  of  Christ  upon 
to  the  true  and 
:mbodies  all  har- 
ice  reign  over  a 


liffiiiiiiiiiiiii liiiiiiiB'il'P 


MY  NRtGHBOR, 


WHEN  the  lawyer  would  test  Christ's  teach- 
ing upon  moral  obligation,  he  asked  what 
he  should  do  to  inherit  eternal  life.  The  Savior 
responded  by  questioning  him  upon  the  "Mosaic 
Law."  The  question  was  quite  in  the  lawyer's 
line,  and  in  reply  he  epitomized  the  Jewish  code 
in  an  able  manner.  He  gathered  in  one  state- 
ment all  our  duties  to  God,  and  in  another  our 
duties  to  our  fellow  beings. 

He  showed  a  fine  analytic  as  well  as  synthetic 
power  in  stating,  not  the  common  frame-work  of 
the  duty,  but  its  underlying  principle.  "Thou 
shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart  and 
with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  strength,  and 
with  all  thy  mind,  and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself." 

We  may  imagine  that  the  Master's  keen  eye 
was  fastened  upon  the  face  of  the  comfortable, 
self-righteous  lawyer,  and  the  word  slid  from  his 
lips  touching  like  a  lance  of  steel  the  core  of  the 
man's  egotism,  "This  do  and  thou  shalt  live." 
Stung  by  an  awakened  conscience  and  "willing 


•mmtmmum 


m.h'M 


DIAMOND  DUST. 

to  justify  himself"  he  asked  2  lUtTe  petulantly, 
as  we  may  suppose,  "Who  is  my  neighbor?" 
The  Savior,   who  always  used  consummate 
skill  in  dealing  with  human  nature,  did  not  an- 
swer directly.     As  a  Jew  he  woiHd  have  replied, 
"One  of  your  race,  or  nation,  01  creed."    As 
the  Son  of  man  he  must  give  a  broader  scope  to 
the  obligation.     But  first  he  must,  if  possible, 
disarm   the  lawyer's   prejudice,  that  the   truth, 
which  so  clear  a  thinker  was  able  to  apprehend, 
might  also  be  received  into  his  heart  and  make 
him  free.      So  the  Master  told  a  story,  the  dra- 
matic interest  of  which  would  take  the  attention 
of  the  other  from  its  personal  point  till  the  prin- 
ciple it  was  meant  to  illustmte  had  been  accepted. 
It  was  about  a  Jew  who  fell  among  thieves  and 
was  neglected  by  the  priest  and  the  Levite— the 
representatives  of  religion  and  learning,  and  cared 
for  by  the  Samaritan,  a  man  of  impure  blood 
and  corrupt  creed.      In  conclusion  the  Master 
asked   which  was  neighbor  unto  him   that  fell 
among  the  thieves?    The  lawj'-r  occupied  with 
the  principle  involved,  gave  a  straightforward  an- 
swer, "He  that  showed  mercy  on  him."    Then 
the  lance  of  truth  touched  again  his  sordid  soul, 
"  Go  and  do  thou  likewise.",  '  ' 

The  lesson  of  social  obligation  taught  in  this 
parable   may  be  formulated   something  in  this 


I  liii  jriit'iai-liiiiiinia^iytia^ja^: 


>  DUST. 

ted  a  lUtTe  petulantly, 
'ho  is  my  neighbor?" 
ays  used  consummate 
an  nature,  did  not  an- 
he  woifld  have  replied, 
lation,  01  creed."  As 
five  a  broader  scope  to 

he  must,  if  possible, 
udice,  that  the  truth, 
fc^as  able  to  apprehend, 
to  his  heart  and  make 

told  a  story,  the  dra- 
>uld  take  the  attention 
)nal  point  till  the  prin- 
rate  had  been  accepted, 
ell  among  thieves  and 
it  and  the  Levite — the 
ind  learning,  and  cared 
man  of  impure  blood 
:onclusion  the  Master 
•r  unto  him  that  fell 
lawj'»r  occupied  with 
e  a  straightforward  an- 
ercy  on  him."  Then 
again  his  sordid  soul, 

Hgation  taught  in  this 
;d  something  in  this 


MY  NEIGHBOR. 


159 


way :  The  knowledge  of  need  and  tiie  ability  to 
meet  it  lay  upon  one  a  responsibility  commensu- 
rate with  his  power  to  serve. 

It  is  not  optional  with  us  to  help  those  who 
need  our  aid.  There  is  an  obligation  upon  us 
as  sacred  and  binding  as  it  is  possible  for  any 
to  be,  because  it  is  one  that  grows  out  of  the 
nature  of  our  relation  to  others,  and  it  is  laid 
upon  us  by  God  himself. 

Paul  said,  "I  am  a  debtor  both  to  the  Greeks 
and  to  the  barbarians,  both  to  the  wise  and  to 
the  unwise."  He  has  been  much  lauded  for  his 
generous  self-giving,  as  if  it  were  all  gratuitous, 
unconstrained  benevolence.  He,  however,  with 
a  clearer  insight  into  the  relation  of  men  to 
men,  regarded  himself  as  simply  discharging  an 
obligation  laid  upon  him  by  the  knowledge  of 
the  danger  of  sinners  and  of  their  possible  sal- 
vation mad*?  plain  to  him  by  the  love  of  Christ 
which  was  shed  abroad  in  his  heart  by  the  Holy 
Ghost.  ^^  He  says,  "The  love  of  Christ  constrain- 
eth  us."  We  suppose  him  to  mean  that  he  had 
been  brought  into  such  sympathy  with  the  Re- 
deemer's purpose  to  save  all  people  that  he  had 
to  live  by  the  law  of  that  love  and  knowledge, 
doing  all  that  was  possible  to  help  every  human 
being  that  he  could  reach.  He  is  simply  paying 
a  debt  that  he  owed  to  Greek  and  barbarian, 


m 


i6o 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


bond  and  free.  There  was  no  merit  in  all  those 
toils  and  travels,  perils  of  waters  and  of  robbers, 
shipwrecks  and  persecutions.  He  owed  human- 
ity that  debt  of  service. 

If  he  had  been  asked  if  this  obligation  was 
special,  resting  upon  him  and  not-  upon  others, 
he  would  have  replied,  *'No  man  liveth  to 
himself." 

The  warp  and  woof  of  our  indebtedness  are 
interwoven  with  the  tissue  of  every  other  human 
life.  None  of  us  can  cut  himself  loose  from  the 
rest  and  say,  "I  stand  alone,  owing  no  man 
aught."  To  every  soul  that  needs  our  help,  and 
that  we  may  be  able  to  aid,  we  are  bound  by  a 
chain  as  unbreakable  as  that  which  holds  the 
planets  in  their  orbits. 

We  are  debtors  to  our  families,  our  commu- 
nities, and  the  race. 

We  confess  judgment  when  the  first  item  of 
this  claim  is  presented.  Our  very  selfishness 
prompts  us  to  care  for  our  own  families.  If  we 
neglect  them,  we  know  that  we  are  planting 
thorns  in  the  paths  our  feet  must  tread  in  the 
old  years,  when  our  steps  are  tottering  and 
uncertain. 

The  recognition  of  our  debt  decreases  in 
proportion  to  our  distance  from  those  to  whom 
we  owe  service.     It  is  like  the  rays  of  a  lamp 


merit  in  all  those 
rs  and  of  robbers, 
He  owed  human- 

lis  obligation  was 

not- upon  others, 

9   man   liveth    to 

r  indebtedness  are 
very  other  human 
ilf  loose  from  the 
,  owing  no  man 
eds  our  help,  and 
;  are  bound  by  a 
which  holds  the 

ilies,  our  commu- 

the  first  item  of 
very  selfishness 
\  families.  If  we 
we  are  planting 
lust  tread  in  the 
re   tottering  and 

^bt  decreases  in 
1  those  to  whom 
!  rays  of  a  lamp 


"}M'"i'8'H'i"8«tt?aSiSfL;tjfe^/; 


MY  NEIGHBOR. 

diverging  and  growing  less  in  power  with  each 
yard  of  space  they  traverse. 

The  philanthropic  radius  is  circumscribed 
with  some  good  people,  reaching  hardly  beyond 
their  immediate  vicinage.  Their  daily  prayer,  if 
freely  translated,  would  be  little  more  than, 

"Bless  me  and  my  wife, 
Son  John  and  his  wife. 
Us  Tour 
,  And  no  more." 

That  we  may  bring  our  families  to  the  broad- 
est charity,  the  best  life,  the  horizon  of  our 
sympathies  must  be  widened. 

Besides  this  home  care  we  m  :st  recognize 
our  debt  of  obligation  to  the  community. 

This  caring  only  for  those  whom  we  can  see 
and  hear  and  touch,  forgetting  our  obligation  to 
all  others,  is  a  little  as  if  one  should  pay  his 
shoemaker  promptly  because  he  happens  to  live 
within  sound  of  the  man's  hammer,  ignoring  the 
claims  of  all  creditors  who  chance  to  live  a  few 
blocks  away. 

Some  reach  a  little  farther,  taking  in  "our 
Church,"  "our  town."  Others  have  a  sense  of 
obligation  that  vitalizes  those  vague  abstractions, 
"the  government,"  "our  country  "--patriotism 
they  call  the  sentiment. 

If  we  search  carefully  enough  we  may  find 


II 


vmmmmtnii^^-iAn^i  ^«^^j8s«m»« 


I  ■:   ! 


1 


i6a 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


the  root  of  most  of  these  benevolent  impulses 
in  selfishness.  Unless  our  friends  are  respecta- 
able  and  good,  we  are  disgraced  by  their  mis- 
deeds. Unlesfhour  community  has  a  reputation 
for  morality,  our  real  estate  depreciates  in  value. 
Unless  our  country  is  prosperous,  all  our  per- 
sonal interests  are  in  peril- 
Only  the  few  who  have  stood  beside  the  all- 
bving  Christ  upon  the  mount  of  God  can  send 
their  thought  away  east,  west,  north,  and 
south  to  all  races  and  tribes,  peoples  and  kin- 
dreds, understanding  that  they  are  bound  to  all, 
no  matter  how  uncouth  in  life,  how  rough  in 
speech,  how  low  in  civilization,  by  the  unbreak- 
able bond  of  human  brotherhood^  Christian  ob- 
ligation. Only  those  divinely  illuminated  souls, 
looking  away  from  that  height  of  spiritual  vision, 
acknowledge  that  they  owe  a  debt  of  service  to 
each  wild  Bedouin  sweeping  across  his  desert 
waste,  each  Esquimaux  shivering  in  his  snow- 
hQt,  each  naked  negro  panting  under  the  equator, 
each  Indian  rajah  and  Chinese  cooly,  each  Si- 
berian serf  and  American  freedman,  each  drunk- 
ard staggering  toward  perdition,  each  lost  woman 
hiding  in  her  den  of  infamy,  each  vagabond  child 
thrice  orphaned  and  desolate. 

Whether  we  apprehend  the  obligation  or  not, 
we  o\Ye  a  debt  to  all  our  race.     None  are  so  far 


\  -• 


rsT. 

enevolent  impulses 
-lends  are  respecta- 
■aced  by  their  mis- 
ty has  a  reputation 
epreclates  in  value, 
erous,  all  our  per- 

tood  beside  the  all- 
it  of  God  can  send 
west,  north,  and 
I,  peoples  and  kin- 
Y  are  bound  to  all, 
life,  how  rough  in 
in,  by  the  unbreak- 
liood^  Christian  ob- 
'  illuminated  souls, 
t  of  spiritual  vision, 
I  debt  of  service  to 
:  across  his  desert 
ering  in  his  snow- 
:  under  the  equator, 
;se  cooly,  each  St- 
:dman,  each  drunk- 
m,  each  lost  woman 
ach  vagabond  child 

£  obligation  or  not, 
None  are  so  far 


MY  NEIGHBOR. 


163 


beneath  us  but  we  can  go  down  to  their  neces- 
sity; none  so  far  above  us  but  we  can  reach 
them  to  pay  the  debt. 

All  arc  in  want.  All  suffer  in  their  threefold 
life  from  its  very  beginning.  Invisible  harpies 
hover  about  the  vestibule  of  being,  and  attack 
tooth  and  nail  every  little  helpless  human.  The 
few  who  fight  their  way  up  through  the  multi- 
form maladies  of  the  first  years,  find  themselves, 
even  before  Time  claims  his  license  to  pull  them 
to  pieces,  grievously  hurt  in  all  their  triple  life. 
It  would  puzzle  the  angels  to  find  one  who  was 
sound  even  in  body. 

The  whimsical,  rickety,  patched  up  old  tene- 
ment is  usually  an  exponent  of  the  wretched  life 
under  its  miserable  rocT.  So  the  unsound  body 
represents,  not  unfairly,  the  general  pitiful  mental 
condition.  Th^re  are  as  few  in  complete  health 
of  mind  as  of  body. 

We  use  gentle  names  in  speaking  of  intellect- 
ual unsoundness,  for  we  do  not  relish  awkward 
plainness  in  regard  to  our  own  ailments.  We 
have  "low  spirits,"  "the  blues,"  "hypochon- 
dria," when  blunders,  misjudgments,  and  evil 
surmisings  indicate  that  the  mental  machinery  is 
getting  out  of  repair.  When  the  disease  has 
reached  a  given  point,  the  general  safety  de-, 
mands  that  the  patient   be  shut  within  stone 


|64 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


>  Hi 


walls,  subjected  to  careful  sanitary  treatment, 
and  put  in  a  strait-jacket. 

We  pity  the  poor  wretches  who  have  lost 
their  reason  as  if  it  were  an  unusual  calamity, 
yet  we  can  not  walk  a  block  in  any  town  with- 
out looking  into  the  blank  faces  of  fools  who  can 
not  reason,  the  sharp  faces  of  bigots  who  will 
not,  and  the  close  faces  of  knaves  who  dare  not, 
use  their  reasoning  powers. 

Apish  vanity,  foxy  cunning,  wolfish  cruelty, 
hyena  like  jealousy,  with  all  their  '.Ith  and  kin 
of  brute  passions  and  beastly  appetites,  lie  in 
wait  to  mar  and  maim  and  poison  the  soul. 
You  may  wade  through  miles  of  people  upon 
city  pavements  without  finding  one  who  is  free 
from  physical  disease ;  so  you  may  travel  leagues 
without  finding  one  unhurt  in  mind,  perfectly 
sound  in  spirit. 

Moral  infirmities  and  maladies  are  even  more 
common  and  pitiful  than  those  of  body  or  mind. 
Multitudes  have  felt  the  touch  of  the  Great 
Physician,  but  very  few  of  us  have  pennitted 
him  to  bring  us  to  even  our  own  scant  notions 
of  moral  health  and  vigor. 

We  dislike  to  look  upon  ulcers,  goiter,  idiocy, 
misshapements,  physical  and  mental.  If  our 
eyes  were  opened  to  see  our  own  moral  deform- 
ities and  those   of  the   people   about   us,   we 


'ST. 

ianitary  treatment, 

les  who  have  lost 
unusual  calamity, 
in  any  town  with- 
es of  fools  who  can 
jf  bigots  who  will 
aves  who  dare  not, 

ig,  wolfish  cruelty, 
their  '.Ith  and  kin 
ly  appetites,  lie  in 
poison  the  soul. 
Bs  of  people  upon 
Ig  one  who  is  free 
may  travel  leagues 
in  mind,  perfectly 

lies  are  even  more 
;  of  body  or  mind, 
uch  of  the  Great 
us  have  pennitted 
own  scant  notions 

cers,  goiter,  idiocy, 

mental.     If  our 

3wn  moral  deform- 

ple   about  us,   we 


MY  NEIGHBOR. 


i6S 


should  be  driven  to  a  hermit's  cell  to  escape  the 
painful  sights  of  every  day. 

There  is  more  tragedy  in  every  life  than  was 
ever  brought  out  upon  the  stage.  Every  feast 
has  its  skeleton.  Under  the  peals  of  merriment 
and  shouts  of  triumph  may  be  heard  the  rattling 
menace  of  its  fleshless  fingers,  the  sullen  chatter 
of  its  lipless  teeth.  Every  human  being,  unless 
healed  by  the  good  Christ,  is,  by  the  witness  of 
God,  "full  of  wounds  and  bruises  and  putrefy- 
ing sores;"  and  the  worst  hurts,  the  deepe.st 
gashes,  are  hid  most  secretly.  They  must  be 
sought  out,  if  one  would  help  the  sufferer. 

You  meet  a  man  in  society  who  looks  robust 
enough  to  relish  a  good  dinner  and  digest  it  sat- 
isfactorily. You  excliange  with  him  the  com- 
monplaces of  the  day,  and  then  you  go  your 
way,  like  the  priest  and  the  Levite,  leaving  him 
in  his  utter  darkness  to  stagger  and  grope  and 
clutch  after  the  rope  of  faith  that  has  been 
wrenched  from  him  by  human  treachery. 

You  are  seated  for  an  hour's  talk  with  a  lady. 
The  worn  pleasantries  of  chitchat  are  tossed 
back  and  forth  gayly  enough.  If  you  \yould 
listen  so  wisely  as  to  catch  the  hard  whisper  of 
her  soul's  dire  need,  the  smile  would  fade  from 
your  eye,  and  the  jest  hurry  back  from  your  lip ; 
for  before  you  is  not  a  merry-hearted  woman. 


wbuMtfi'i'xm'MWintw 


IWBO«***il»*^ 


1 66 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


j^W' 


full  of  life  and  hope,  but  a  wretched  soul  wrest- 
ling with  fearful  doubts  of  man's  truth  and 
God's  pity.  i 

Perhaps  but  little  was  required  of  you  for  the 
helping  of  these  needy  people.  Only  the  cup  of 
cold  water.  Not  an  exhortation  nor  a  sermon, 
possibly  jiot  even  an  uttered  prayer — only  to  give 
the  bewildered  soul  a  look  into  a  pair  of  steady, 
kind,  honest  eyes,  or  the  grasp  of  a  clean  hand — 
yet  it  might  have  held  the  wavering  faith,  till 
the  courage  had  regained  its  strength.  A  world 
better  if  you  had  not  been  bom,  than  for  you  to 
be  delinquent  in  these  simple  debts — this  throw- 
ing a  rope  to  the  shipwrecked. 

A  man  is  driving  to  market  along  a  surf- 
beaten  shore.  In  the  last  night's  gloom  ruffian 
winds  and  merciless  waves  seized  a  good  ship  and 
dragged  her  down  to  the  cavernous  depths.  In 
the  cold  gray  morning  men  and  women  are  toss- 
ing in  the  breakers,  clinging  to  spars  and 
boards,  and  crying  for  help.  What  does  our 
comfortable  marketer  do  ?  Does  he  spring  from 
his  wagon  and  use  every  effort  to  get  men,  anJ 
ropes,  and  boats  before  the  poor,  drowning  peo- 
ple are  swallowed  up  by  the  hungry  sea?  Oh, 
no.  He  drives  on,  whistling  a  careless  tune,  and 
busying  himself  upon  the  probable  gain  from  his 
load.     What  cares  he  for  the  perishing  wretches? 


t-~^: 


n 


sr. 

retched  soul  wrest- 

man's   truth   and 

■I 

lired  of  you  for  the 

Only  the  cup  of 

lion  nor  a  sermon, 

rayer — only  to  give 

o  a  pair  of  steady, 

3  of  a  clean  hand — 

wavering  faith,  till 

strength.     A  world 

im,  than  for  you  to 

debts — this  throw- 

1. 

rket  along  a  surf- 
ght's  gloom  ruffian 
:ed  a  good  ship  and 
ernous  depths.  In 
iid  women  are  toss- 
ng  to  spars  and 
What  does  our 
•oes  he  spring  from 
rt  to  get  men,  anJ 
oor,  drowning  peo- 
hungry  sea?  Oh, 
a  careless  tune,  and 
bable  gain  from  his 
perishing  wretches? 


A/y  tfElGHBOK. 


167 


Why,  he  does  not  know  one  of  them  even  by 
name.  He  left  his  own  safe  in  their  homes. 
Lynch  him  ?  Not  so  fast.  Execrable  murderer 
as  he  is,  he  will  live  to  a  fair  age  if  one  who  is 
without  guilt  must  cast  at  him  the  first  stone. 

Victor  Hugo  in  "  Les  Miserables  "  makes  his 
bishop  regard  himself  as  having  wrongf^d  the 
poor,  because  he  bought  comforts  for  himself 
with  the  fnoney  that  he  might  have  used  in  buy- 
ing them  bread,  and  Jean  Valjean  as  no  worse 
in  stealing  the  articles  than  he  in  keeping  their 
value  from  the  starving. 

The  French  philosopher  may  have  over- 
wrought a  trifle  his  picture  in  his  attempt  to  make 
us  see  our  obligation  to  the  poor,  yet  John  Wes- 
ley was  about  as  extravagant  when  he  said,  "  If 
I  die  worth  ten  pounds  men  may  call  me  a  vil- 
lain." Hugo's  sad  eyes  have  been  fixed  upon 
the  maelstrom  where  the  unfortunate  are  drawn 
down  to  death,  unpitied  and  uiihelped,  till  his 
brain  may  not  be  steady  enough  to  work  out  the 
problem  of  their  rescue ;  yet  he  lays  a  stout  hand 
upon  every  man's  shoulder,  and  with  the  peremp- 
toriness  of  justice  he  charges  him  with  unpaid 
indebtedness ;  worse,  with  the  embezzlement  of 
widow's  crusts  and  pauper's  rags.  In  the  "Cruel 
social  juggle  "  he  turns  his  sharp  gaze  this  way 
and  that  for  help,  but  in  vain.     Another,  whose 


ifiwirwiiiiiii 


■■ 


:;.'f' 


1 68 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


heart  is  no  more  deeply  touched  with  a  sense  of 
wrong,  but  upon  whose  eyes  God's  Ught  has  been 
poured,  jnay  lead  us  directly  to  Christ,  the  em- 
bodiment of  unselfish  love,  as  the  one  cure  of 
this  terrible  plague. 

With  the  increase  of  knowledge  comes  an  m- 
crease  of  responsibility.  We  are  living  in  an  ear- 
nest, restless  time.  Many  "run  to  and  fro,  and 
knowledge  is  increased."  Steam  navigation,  rail- 
roads, telegraphs  have  made  all  nations  our  next- 
door  neighbors.  The  Celestial  Empire  has  been 
towed  across  the  sea  and  anchored  to  our  West 
ern  coast.  It  is  even  emptying  upon  our  coun- 
try its  surplus  population.  We  have  already  in 
the  United  States  two  hundred  thousand  Chi- 
namen. 

It  is  an  unambitious  college  that  has  not  a 
Japanese  name  in  its  catalogue.  One  can  hardly 
meet  a  parlor  full  of  comfortably  intelligent  peo- 
ple without  hearing  one  say,  •'  I  saw  the  like  of 
that  in  Shanghai,"  and  another,  "We  bought 
that  in  Calcutta." 

The  dark  side  of  the  world  is  rolling  up 
toward  the  light.  We  adjust  our  postal  and  tel- 
egraphic glasses,  and  peer  across  the  narrowing 
Pacific.  We  talk  over  at  the  breakfast-table  what 
the  East  Indians  were  about  last  evening.  For- 
merly those  great  lands  full  of  queer  people  were 


ST. 


MY  NEIGHBOR. 


169 


ed  with  a  sense  of 
od's  light  has  been 

0  Christ,  the  cm- 
i  the  one  cure  of 

edge  comes  an  in- 
t  living  in  an  ear- 
in  to  and  fro,  and 
m  navigation,  rail- 
nations  our  next- 
Empire  has  been 
>red  to  our  West 
5  upon  our  coun- 
e  have  already  in 
ed  thousand  Chi- 

;e  that  has  not  a 

One  can  hardly 

ly  intelligent  peo- 

1  saw  the  like  of 
ler,  "  We  bought 

Id  is  rolling  up 
ur  postal  and  tel- 
•ss  the  narrowing 
eakfast-table  what 
st  evening.  For- 
lueer  people  were 


all  ten-<s  vuognita.  The  shreds  of  humanity 
packed  away  in  them  were  so  unlike  ourselves  in 
all  their  modes  of  life  and  thought,  so  far  from 
our  notions  of  what  is  essential  to  the  species  we 
hardly  regarded  them  as  human.  But  we  have 
come  to  know  that  those  immense  masses  of  peo- 
ple, crowded  and  crushed  together,  as  much  alike 
as  the  individuals  of  a  flock  of  blackbirds,  and  as 
meaningless  in  their  jargons — mere  census  items, 
too  numerous  for  counting — we  have  come  at  last 
to  understand  that  they  are  hoping,  fearing,  lov- 
ing, hating,  sinning,  sorrowing  human  souls,  each 
redeemed  by  the  blood  of  the  Son  of  God,  each 
capable  of  boundless  development  in  good,  each 
as  dear  to  the  Lord  Christ  as  are  the  people  by 
whose  side  we  kneel  at  the  home  aitar,  or  the 
communion  rail. 

We  have  come  to  know  the  pitiful  mistakes 
of  their  civilization,  how  they  grope  for  temple 
doors  in  their  selfmade  darknes.s,  and  clutch 
each  other's  throats.  We  have  seen  how  great 
souls  among  them,  Confucius,  and  Zoroaster,  and 
Moham^nf  J,  held  aloft  their  flickering  torches, 
only  makuig  the  gloom  more  dense,  whUe  the 
people  stumbled  this  way  and  that,  sinking 
deeper  into  the  mire  at  each  step. 

We  have  looked  into  their  living  places.  We 
see  them  buying  and  selling  their  wives — their 


6  sivik-jik 


170 


DIAMOND  DUST, 


pride  and  passion  trampling  upon  the  very  hearts 
of  those  whose  love  and  care  ought  to  make  for 
them  good  homes.  We  hear  the  gurgle  in  the 
throats  of  the  little  daughters  that  they  drown. 
We  hear  the  moans  of  the  old  mothers  pushed 
off  into  the  Ganges,  or  left  to  the  tender  mercies 
of  the  wild  beasts  of  the  jungle.  We  know  their 
misery.  They  have  become  our  neighbors.  We 
can  not  shake  off'  the  responsibility  of  sharing 
with  them  the  light  of  our  clearer  day,  the  bless- 
ings  of  our  Christian  civilization. 

Our  obligation  is  increased  also  by  the  in- 
crease  of  our  ability.  Christianity  is  the  main- 
spring of  improvement  in  art,  science,  literature, 
civil  and  international  polity;  and  with  each 
added  facility  for  commerce  and  travel  there 
come  new  duties.  Christianity  and  progress  are 
synonymous.  With  the  increase  cf  Christian 
light  there  is  added  ability  to  bring  tMhgs  to 
pass,  and  with  the  increased  power  comes  £!dded 
responsibility  for  those  less  favored. 

We  can  translate  Bibles,  and  prepare  and  send 
teachers  to  the  needy  abroad  as  never  before. 

Instead  of  its  taking  months  to  make  a  copy 
of  the  Scriptures  and  months  m^re  for  a  sailing 
vessel  to  creep  across  the  sea  with  its  precious 
cargo,  we  can  take  the  paper  from  the  mill  and 
the  ink  from  the  factory,  and  in  a  few  days  our 


V 


T, 

on  the  very  hearts 
>ught  to  make  for 
the  gurgle  in  the 
that  they  drown. 
J  mothers  pushed 
:he  tender  mercies 
We  know  their 
ir  neighbors.  We 
stbility  of  sharing 
rer  day,  the  bless- 
n. 

\  also  by  the  in- 
nity  is  the  main- 
science,  literature, 
;  and  with  each 
and  travel  there 
'  and  progress  are 
ease  cf  Christian 
[)  bring  tMhgs  to 
3wer  comes  »^dded 
ored. 

[  prepare  and  send 
as  never  before. 
15  to  make  a  copy 
niv-re  for  a  sailing 
with  its  precious 
from  the  mill  and 
in  a  few  days  our 


MY  NEIGHHOK. 


171 


ship  has  steamed  around  the  world  leaving  at 
each  port  the  Word  of  Life. 

Fifty  years  ago  it  was  a  rare  thing  to  find 
one  who  could  read  an  Oriental  language.  Now, 
classes  meet  in  our  parlors  hunting  for  Hebrew 
roots  as  an  afternoon  recreation,  and  our  colleges 
turn  out  readers  of  Sanskrit  by  the  dozen.  It 
will  not  be  long  till  a  cued  Chinaman  or  a  nim- 
ble-wltted  Japane.sc  professor  will  be  teaching 
Oriental  monosyllabics  at  each  of  our  educational 
centers.  Already  in  a  national  university  in 
Japan  is  there  a  professorship  of  moral  philos- 
ophy filled  by  a  Christian  missionary,  who  uses 
the  New  Testament  as  his  text-book  in  ethics. 
If  the  sense  of  responsibility  in  the  Christian 
Church  had  gone  beyond  that  of  the  apostolic 
era  in  the  ratio  of  added  ability,  long  ere  this  the 
world  would  have  been  evangelized. 

During  Pauls  thirty-three  itinerant  years  South- 
western Asia  and  Southern  Europe  were  dotted 
with  churches.  Not  a  city  of  consequence  in 
the  civilized  world  was  left  unvisited.  Compa- 
nies of  men  and  women  fished  from  the  slums  of 
heathen  sensualism  became  the  primitive  Church, 
to  whose  purity  and  excellence  we  are  never 
tired  of  referring. 

When  Paul  was  in  Corinth,  writing  to  the 
Church  at  Rome,  he  told  them  that  he  must 


fffti 


im 


m 


17a 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


carry  to  Jerusalem  a  benefaction  for  the  poor 
Christians  there  from  the  Macedonians.  After 
that  journey  he  hoped  to  go  to  Spain  and  visit 
his  Roman  friends  by  the  way.  It  was  no  small 
matter  in  those  days  of  slow,  unsafe  sailing  to  go 
from  one  end  of  the  Mediterranean  to  the  other. 
It  was  as  if  one  of  us  should  write  to  a  Church 
in  Bombay,  "I  must  carry  a  gift  from  the  Bos- 
tonians  to  the  poor  saints  at  Athens.  After  I 
have  performed  that  duty,  I  hope  to  go  to  Pe- 
king to  preach  the  Gospel  there,  and  I  will  stop 
and  see  you  in  Bombay  on  my  journey  thither." 

If  the  sense  of  obligation  to  all  men  crowded 
the  apostle  to  the  Gentiles  through  all  manner 
of  perils  and  afflictions,  how  ought  our  added 
knowledge  and  ability  to  urge  us  onward  in  this 
work  of  the  world's  conquest  for  Christ.  If  the 
Church  in  these  days  were  moved  by  that  prim- 
itive zeal,  every  one  of  the  dark-souled  millions 
would  have  a  knowledge  of  Christ's  salvation 
within  a  decade. 

In  giving  the  ignorant  masses,  at  home  or 
abroad,  a  knowledge  of  salvation  by  Christ,  we 
help  them  in  all  their  hurt  threefold  life. 

Christianity  establishes  not  only  Churches  and 
Sabbath-schools,  but  it  provides  asylums  for  the 
inHrm,  hospitals  for  the  .sick,  care  for  the  aged, 
homes  for  the  homeless,  friends  for  the  friend- 


OUST. 

ifaction  for  the  poor 
Macedonians.  After 
;o  to  Spain  and  visit 
'ay.  It  was  no  small 
/,  unsafe  sailing  to  go 
Tranean  to  the  other. 
Id  write  to  a  Church 

a  gift  from  the  Bos- 
at  Athens.  After  I 
I  hope  to  go  to  Pe- 
:here,  and  I  will  stop 
my  journey  thither." 
ti  to  all  men  crowded 
>  through  all  manner 
jw  ought  our  added 
ge  us  onward  in  this 
St  for  Christ.  If  the 
moved  by  that  prim- 

dark-souled  millions 
of  Christ's  salvation 

masses,  at  home  or 
'vation  by  Christ,  we 
threefold  life, 
ot  only  Churches  and 
vices  asylums  for  the 
k,  care  for  the  aged, 
iends  for  the  friend- 


MY  NEIGHBOR. 


173 


less,  schools  for  the  ignorant,  health,  peace, 
prosperity  for  all. 

I  might  fill  my  house  with  the  shiveiing  poor, 
and  it  would  become  only  what  Christianity  has 
taught  every  city  and  county  to  build — ^an  alms- 
house or  hospital.  If  I  give  those  same  poor 
people  a  knowledge  of  Christ's  power  to  save 
from  sensuality  and  vice,  I  make  them  self-sup- 
porting. Their  sins  are  the  one  luxury  that  they 
can  not  afford.  What  they  spend  in  intoxicants, 
physical  and  mental,  would  give  them  an  inde- 
pendence, with  ample  medicine  and  care  for 
their  illnesses. 

The  religion  of  the  Lord  Jesus  teaches  us  to 
crowd  this  common  evangelism  while  we  provide 
amply  and  generously  for  those  who  must  be 
cared  for  by  general  public  charity. 

We  can  meet  our  obligation  to  our  neighbors 
only  by  giving  them  a  knowledge  of  Christ's 
power  to  make  them  pure  and  free,  strong  and 
noble.  As  the  greater  includes  the  less,  this  will 
be  a  medicine  for  all  the  ills  that  infest  humanity, 
a  lifting  of  the  curse  from  our  sorrowing  race. 

When  we  meet  our  ordinary  financial  obliga- 
tions we  take  a  receipt  acknowledging  the  fact. 
We  need  expect  no  credit  on  this  world's  'books 
for  the  expenditure  of  time  and  money  and 
strength  in  paying  the  debts  that  we  call  benev- 


aBMMM 


I 


174 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


olent.  Indeed,  so  sadly  are  beliefs  and  notions 
of  right  jumbled,  we  will  pass  for  fanatics  and 
fools,  if  we  do  not  spend  our  substance  in  add- 
ing to  our  own  magnificence,  rather  than  in  be- 
stowing upon  others  as  God  wills. 

We  can  do  this  work  properly  only  when  we 
have  reference  to  the  record  above,  careless  whether 
the  eyes  about  us  beam  kindly  or  dart  upon  us 
scathing  contempt  and  hate.  The  unslumbering 
Eye  notes  even  the  cup  of  ccld  water  given  in 
his  name.   ■ 

God  never  forgets.  He  will  not  pass  lightly 
over  any  neglect  of  obligation.  "My  lord  car- 
dinal," said  Anne  of  Austria  to  Richelieu,  "God 
does  not  pay  at  the  end  of  each  week,  but  at 
the  last  he  pays.'* 

He  will  hold  us  to  the  uttermost  farthing  if 
wc  fail  of  our  duty  to  his  poor,  be  they  sufferers 
in  estate  or  body,  in  mind  or  spirit.  "Then 
shall  the  King  say  also  unto  them  on  the  left- 
hand,  Depart  from  me,  ye  cursed,  into  everlast- 
ing fire,  prepared  for  th*  devil  and  his  angels; 
for  I  was  a-hungered,  and  ye  gave  me  no  meat: 
I  war>  thirsty,  and  ye  gave  me  no  drink:  I  was 
a  stranger,  and  ye  took  me  not  in:  naked,  and 
ye  clothed  me  not:  sick,  and  in  prison,  and  ye 
visited  nie  not.  Then  shall  they  also  answer 
him,  saying.  Lord,  when  saw  we  thee  a-hungered, 


Jt/y  NEIGHBOR, 


»7S 


iefs  and  notions 
for  fanatics  and 
ibstante  in  add- 
ther  than  in  be- 

5. 

y  only  when  we 
careless  whether 
or  dart  upon  us 
le  unslumbering 
1  water  given  in 

not  pass  lightly 
"My  lord  car- 
Richelieu,  "God 
:h  week,  but  at 

most  farthing  if 
be  they  sufferers 

spirit.  "Then 
dem  on  the  left- 
ed,  into  everlast- 

and  his  angels; 
ive  me  no  meat: 
no  drink:  I  was 
t  in:  naked,  and 
1  prison,  and  ye 
Key  also  answer 
thee  a-hungered, 


or  a-thirst,  or  a  stranger,  or  naked,  or  sick,  or  in 
prison,  and  did  not  minister  unto  thee?  Then 
shall  he  answer  them,  saying,  Verily  I  say  unto 
you,  inasmuch  as  ye  did  it  not  to  one  of  the 
least  of  these,  ye  did  it  not  to  me." 

So  wonderful  is  his  condescension  and  tender- 
ness of  care,  he  will  enter  upon  the  Record  and 
apportion  the  eternal  reward  as  if  each  act  of 
unselfish  love  and  care  of  the  miserable  here  had 
been  done  to  himself.  "Then  shall  the  King 
say  unto  them  on  his  right-hand,  Come,  ye 
blessed  of  my  Father,  inherit  the  kingdom  pre- 
pared for  you  from  the  foundation  of  the  world : 
for  I  was  a-hungered,  and  ye  gave  me  meat:  I 
was  thirsty,  and  ye  gave  me  drink:  I  was  a 
stranger,  and  ye  took  me  in:  naked,  and  ye 
clothed  me :  I  was  sick,  and  ye  visited  me :  I  was 
in  prison,  and  ye  came  unto  me.  Then  shall 
the  righteous  answer  him,  saying,  Lord,  when 
saw  we  thee  a-hungered,  and  fed  thee?  or  thirsty, 
and  gave  ihee  drink?  When  saw  we  thee  a 
stranger,  and  took  thee  in  ?  or  naked,  and  clothed 
thee?  or  when  saw  we  thee  sick,  or  in  prison, 
and  came  unto  thee?  And  the  King  shall  an- 
swer and  say  unto  them.  Verily  I  say  unto  you, 
inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the 
least  of  these  my  brethren,  ye  have  done  it 
unto  me." 


176 


DIAMOND  DUSr. 


Lowell's  knight,  in  his  vision,  found  this 
glorious  truth — the  same  that  the  Master  taught 
in  the  parable  of  the  Good  Samaritan:  , 

<'  For  Christ's  sweet  sake  I  beg  an  alms." 

'•Sir  Launfal  sees  only  the  grewsome  thin^, 
'llie  leper  lank  as  the  rain-blanclied  bone. 
That  cowers  beside  him,  a  thing  as  lone 
And  white  as  the  ice  isles  of  Norlhevn  seas. 
In  the  desolate  horror  cf  his  disease. 

And  Sir  Lattnfnl  said,  •  I  behold  in  thee 
An  iinnge  of  Ilim  who  died  on  the  tree. 
Mild  Mary's  Son  acknowledge  me. 
Behold  through  him  I  give  to  thee.' 

Then  th:  ioul  of  the  leper  stood  up  in  his  eyes. 

And  looked  at  Sir  Launfnl,  and  straightway  he 

Remembered  in  what  a  haughtier  guise 

He  had  flung  an  alms  to  leprosie ; 

When  he  girt  his  young  life  up  in  gilded  mail 

And  set  forth  in  search  of  the  Holy  Giail. 

The  heart  within  him  was  ashes  and  dust ; 

He  parted  in  twain  his  single  crust. 

He  broke  the  ice  on  the  streamlet's  brink 

And  gave  the  leper  to  eat  and  drink. 

'T  was  a  moldy  crust  of  coarse  brown  bread, 

•T  was  water  out  of  a  wooden  bowl. 

Yet  with  fine  wheaten  bread  was'  the  leper  fed, 

And  't  was  red  wine  he  diank  with  his  thirsty  soul. 

As  Sir  Launfal  mused  with  a  downcast  face, 

A  light  shone  round  about  the  place; 

The  leper  no  longer  crouched  at  his  side 

But  stood  before  him  gtorif.ed. 

Shining  and  tall  and  fair  and  straigKt 

As  the  pillar  that  stood  by  the  Beautiful  Gate  5 


sion,  found  this 
le  Master  taught 
aritati :  , 

!|r  an  alms." 

ne  thin^, 
eil  bonci 
as  lone 
ilietn  seas, 
use. 

n  thee 
he  tree. 

» 
'I 

ee.' 

up  in  his  eyes, 
trni|rhtway  he 
r  guise 

1  gilded  mail      ^ 
i)y  Giail. 
ind  dust; 

St, 

t's  brink 

'ink. 

own  bread, 

'  the  leper  fed, 
th  his  thirsty  soul. 

ncast  face, 
ace; 
his  side 

ight 

autirul  Gate ; 


177 


AfV  NEIGHBOK, 

Himself  t!.e  gale  whereby  men  can 
Enter  the  temple  of  God  in  man. 

His  words  were  shed  softer  than  leaves  from  the  pine. 

And  they  fell  o'l  Sir  Launfal  as  snows  on  the  brine. 

Which  mingle  ti.eir  softness  and  quiet  in  one 

With  the  shaggy  nnrest  they  float  down  upon. 

And  the  voice,  that  was  calmer  than  silence,  said ; 

'  Lo  it  is  I,  be  not  afraid. 

In  many  climes  without  avail 

Thou  hast  spent  thy  life  for  the  Holy  Grail ; 

Behold,  it  is  here,  this  cup  which  t'.ou 

Didst  fill  at  the  streamlet  for  Me  but  now; 

This  crust  is  my  body  broken  for  thee. 

This  water  his  blood  that  died  on  the  tree; 

The  Holy  Supper  is  kept  indeed, 

In  whatso  we  share  with  another's  need, 

Not  what  we  give,  but  what  we  share. 

For  the  gift  without  the  giver  is  bare. 

Who  gives  himself,  with  his  alms,  feeds  three,— 

Himself,  his  hungering  neighbor,  and  me.' " 

13 


I  1. 1 1 


'%. 


178 


DIAMOND  DUS1. 


JfO^Sf  MO  €J^M  S^D  OS  "UttfJ; 

FIRST  let  us  acknowledge  fairly  that  we  are 
sufTering  from  that  horrid  mental  indisposi- 
tion, and  not  go  about  with  a  machine-made 
smile  and  uplifted  brows,  trying  to  cheat  our- 
selves into  a  belief  that,  though  we  are  the  most 
unfortunate  and  sadly  abused  persons  on  the 
planet,  yet  we  are  altogether  saintly  in  pa- 
tience— indeed,  fair  specimens  of  the  noble  army 
of  martyrs.  Let  us  lay  aside  our  mask  of 
wintery  sunshine,  and  confess  honestly  and  un- 
flinchingly, "Yes;  I'm  in  the  blues.  I  know  I 
ought  to  rejoice  evermore,  and  in  every  thing 
give  thanks,  yet  somehow  my  cares  are  quite 
too  much  for  me." 

Let  us  face  the  danger  of  indulging  in  the 
melancholy  pleasure  of  being  thoroughly  wretched 
over  every  little  piece  of  ill-fortune.  Let  us 
understand  that,  if  we  make  mountains  out  of 
molehills  of  trouble,  we  shall  abide  under  the 
shadow  of  snow-caoped  miseries  all  the  long, 
long,  weary  3/3. 


2. 


01  "Uttfi; 


fairly  that  we  are 

mental  indisposi- 

a  machine-made 

ng  to  cheat  our- 

1  we  are  the  most 

persons   on   the 

;r    saintly   in    pa- 

of  the  noble  army 

ie    our   mask  of 

honestly  and  un- 

blues.     I  know  I 

id  in  every  thing 

y  cares  are  quite 

*  indulging  in  the 
oroughly  wretched 
-fortune.  Let  us 
mountains  out  of 
I  abide  under  the 
rJes  all  the  long, 


//Oty  TO  GET  RID  OF  "THE  BLUES."     179 

The  diagnosis  of  the  case  will  not  be  difficult 
if  we  apprehend  the  presence  and  importance  of 
the  disease. 

There  is  a  close  analogy  between  physical 
and  mental  ailments. 

Sometimes  a  part  of  the  physical  mechanism 
gets  out  of  order,  and  the  patient  pays  little 
attention,  hoping  to  be  well  in  a  few  days.  The 
disea.'ie,  meanwhile,  creeps  stealthily  and  steadily 
toward  the  stronghold  of  life,  till  some  miserable 
morning  the  man  Awakes  to  the  fact  that  he  is 
at  its  mercy.  It  can  be  dislodged  from  the  cit- 
adel of  strength  only  by  severe  and  snergetic 
measures. 

In  like  manner  many  a  tired  heart  yields  to 
a  sense  of  discomfort  that  grows  into  a  burden 
of  care,  an  unbearable  load,  accompanied  by  all 
manner  of  forbodings,  evil  surmisings,  misap- 
prehensions, and  heart-break,  till  the  sufferer 
finds  himself  at  last  in  a  cell  with  padded 
walls. 

Let  us  take  these  mental  maladies  in  time; 
and  first  let  us  find  the  seat  of  the  disease. 
There  has  been  a  deal  of  blundering  at  this 
point.  Some  of  our  wise  moderns  declare  that 
a  torpid  liver  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  mischief. 
They  prescribe  blue-pill  or  podophyllin  to  take 
the  indigo  out  of  affairs.     Tliey  believe  that  the 


.rMm,  ;:nrf  fflfrKT  ■  ^af*ff  giS^'-7i;^-'f'y»S.^"fti'i-"  -  ■■ 


% 


iff 


I  i  [r|^ 


DIAMOND  DUST. 

mental  health  hinges  altogether  upon  physical 
conditions.  Their  one  remedy  for  all  the  ills 
that  flesh  is  heir  to  is  found  in  good,  generous 
care  of  the  body. 

They  can  not  claim  originality  in  these  no- 
tions. The  old  Greeks  put  the  highest  premium 
upon  physical  and  aesthetic  culture  as  conducive 
to  mental  and  moral  excellence.  They  paid 
supreme  national  honors  to  the  man  of  fleetest 
foot  and  firmest  muscle.  Their  success  in  that 
line  of  development  was  unparalleled,  yet  they 
had  a  state  of  morals  that  could  but  give  the 
gloomiest  views  of  life  here  and  hereafter.  If 
they  did  not  have  "the  blues"  it  was  no  credit 
to  their  common  sense. 

Plato  said:  "While  the  soul  is  mingled  with 
this  mass  of  evil,  our  desires  for  truth  can  not 
be  satisfied ;  for  the  body  is  a  source  of  endless 
trouble  to  us,  filling  us  with  fears,  fancies,  idols, 
and  every  sort  of  folly.  It  prevents  our  ever 
having  so  much  as  a  thought." 

No  one  can  deny  that  the  body  aflects  the 
mind,  depressing  it  when  out  of  repair  and  ren- 
dering it  faithful  service  only  when  sound;  yet 
we  must  insiit  that  mental  disease  is  usually  out 
of  the  reach  of  physical  remedies.  From  close 
observation,  as  well  as  from  pitiful  personal  ex- 
periences, we  may  conclude  that  the  mental  dis- 


ler  upon  physical 
y  for  all  the  ills 
in  good,  generous 

jality  in  these  no- 
e  highest  premium 
Iture  as  conducive 
jnce.  They  paid 
he  man  of  fleetest 
eir  success  in  that 
aralleled,  yet  they 
:ould  but  give  the 
and  hereafter.  If 
"  it  was  no  credit 

3ul  is  mingled  with 
1  for  truth  can  not 
1  source  of  endless 
"ears,  fancies,  idols, 
prevents  our  ever 

le  body  affects  the 
of  repair  and  ren- 
/  when  sound;  yet 
sease  is  usually  out 
edies.  From  close 
pitiful  personal  ex- 
that  the  mental  dis- 


ffOlV  TO  GET  RID  OF  ''THE  BLUES."      l8l 

order  known  as  "the  blues"  is  to  be  regarded 
simply  as  an  aggravated  attack  of  egotism,  and 
as  soch  it  must  be  treated.  Instead  of  saying, 
with  amiable  self-pity,  "I  have  the  blues  to-day,", 
let  us  use  plain  English,  • '  I  am  suffering  from  an 
attack  of  egotism." 

The  victims  of  the  disease  are  legion.     The 
young  girl  at  a  party  who  is  uncomfortable  un- 
less she  has  an  opportunity  to  shine  with  special 
brilliancy  at  the  piano  or  elsewhere ;  the  young 
man  who  measures  the  enjoyment  of  the  even- 
ing by  the  amount  of  attention  he  receives  from 
host,    hostess,    or    distinguished    guests;    the 
brother  who   has  a  good   prayer  meeting   only 
when  he  has  the  lion's  share  of  theexercises; 
the  woman  who  must  lug  into  the  conversation 
the  story  of  the  fine  home  she  came  from,  the 
elegant  people  who  arc  on  her  calling  list,  the 
trip  to  Europe  she  expects  to  take  next  year; 
the  stupid  old  fellow  who  is  forever  telling  of  the 
things  that  happened  when  he  was  in  college, 
the  fine  position  his  son  is  taking  in  business  or 
political  life,  the  excellent  match  his  daughter  is 
about  to  make, — each  contented  or  wretched  in 
proportion  to  the  attention  given  by  odiers  io 
his  weighty  personalities — in  cases  like  these  the 
symptoms  are  so  plain,   there  is  little  trouble 
with  the  diagnosis. 


.^m^^mL^ 


^m 


iSa 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


"  But  I  'm  sure  1  'm  no  egotist."  says  a  reti- 
cent, sharp-browrl  man  who  carries  an  iceberg 
atmosphere  about  with  him  at  least  three  hundred 
days  of  the  year.  "I  seldom  talk  about  myself 
or  my  doings.  The  fact  is,  I  've  felt  a  hundred 
tunes  like  shooting  myself  because  I'm  such  a 
dunce." 

You  no  (  ;otlst!     Why,  my  friend,  you  have 
a  determination  to  be  first  and  foremost  in  all 
things,    a    purpose   as    inveterate    as   that    that 
nerved  Alexander  to  mow  down  human  oppo- 
nents as  men  cut  grain.     You  have  too  much 
conscience  to  give  the  purpose  full  play,  and  be- 
cause you  have  not  brain  enough  to  carry  out 
your  mighty  egotism,  you  have  a  falling  out  with 
seF.     Every  no'-  and  then  you  set  your  will  as 
a  rtint  to  be  somewhat  in  the  world  yet,  and  the 
failure  leads  you  to  the  shooting  point.     Your 
e{.  otism  is  ten  times  deeper  and  more  dangerous 
tlian   that   of   your  braggadocio   brother.     His 
bubbles  to  the  surface;  yours  seethes  and  burns 
like  a  pent  volcano.     Your  reticence  and  dispar- 
agement of  self  are  chains  and  rods  that  your, 
conscience  whispers  necessary  to  keep  the  giant 

down. 

"True,  true,"  sighs  a  sad-faced  Christian  with 
a  meek  drawl  of  self  depreciation.  "  Egotism  is 
a  great  hindrance   to  grace,  and   I'm  thankful 


ST. 

;otist  "  says  a  reti- 
carries  all  iceberg 

least  three  hundred 
talk  about  myself 

[  've  felt  a  hundred 

ecause  I  'm  such  a 

»y  friend,  you  have 
nd  foremost  in  all 
■rate    as   that    that 
lown  human  oppo- 
ou  have  too  much 
;e  full  play,  and  be- 
lough  to  carry  out 
vt  a  falling  out  with 
'ou  set  your  will  as 
;  world  yet,  and  the 
loting  point.     Your 
ind  more  dangerous 
locio   brother.     His 
s  seethes  and  burns 
reticence  and  dispar- 
and  rods  that  your, 
y  to  keep  the  giant 

-faced  Christian  with 
ation.  "Egotism  is 
.  and   I'm  thankful 


HOW  TO  GET  RID  OF  ''THE  BLUES »      1 83 

I  'm  safe  from  that  snare.  I  always  feel  to 
mourn  over  my  own  unworthiness." 

And  yet  yours  is  one  of  the  most  inveterate 
cases  of  spiritual  egotism — if  there  is  such  a 
tiling.  Half  your  moping  over  your  narrow 
usefulness — ^as  you  cheat  yourself  to  think  it — is 
really  dissatisfaction  that  you  are  not  regarded 
specially  successful  in  the  work  you  attempt. 
If  you  will  analyze  the  mortification  over  your 
failures,  you  will  find  that  your  grief  is  not 
usually  because  the  Master's  work  is  suffering 
loss,  but  because  you  yourself  are  likely  to  come 
out  minus  the  eclat  that  is  so  very  agreeable  an 
incense  to  burn  before  the  ego. 

From  observing  these  follies  in  ourselves  and 
others,  we  have  come  to  conclude  that  ordinarily 
the  pain  we  suffer  over  hard  circumstances,  per- 
sonal incompetence,  lack  of  opportunity,  possi- 
ble, probable,  and  actual  failure,  which  we  call 
having  the  blues,  is  simply  the  result  of  more  or 
less  acute  egotism,  that  can  be  gotten  rid  of  only 
by  remedies  that  go  back  of  the  physical,  back 
even  of  the  mental,  and  take  hold  of  the  spir- 
itual life. 

Webster  defines  egotism  "a  passionate  love 
of  self,  leading  a  man  to  consider  every  thing  as 
connected  with  his  own  person,  and  to  prefer 
himself  to  every  thing  in  the  world." 


'1  "■ , 


!  i  '  '■■'iaii:' 


j    ! 


»«4 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


Man  has  been  sagely  called  a  microcosm. 
This  ridiculous  passion  makes  every  "little 
world"  the  center  of  the  universe;  as  if  each 
planet  and  satellite  and  speck  of  star  dust  should 
gla.ice  grandly  around  through  the  infinite 
spaces,  and  stretch  its  tiny  rays  to  enlighten  all, 
feeling  its  wonderful  self  the  central  point,  the 
mainspring,  the  moving  power  of  the  whole;  and 
then,  if  every  planet,  sun,  and  system  did  not 
in  some  way  reflect  its  infinitesimal  glory,  it 
should  fold  in  its  rays  as  if  it  would  mantle  itself 
in  gloom.  Forsooth  its  efforts  at  shining  are  so 
utterly  unappreciated  that  it  may  as  well  give 
up  all  attempts  thereat,  and  punish  the  perverse 
indifference. 

Egotism  attacli?  is  s  arly,  we  can  not  note 
its  incipiency.  Wc  dawn  upon  ourselves  so 
gradually,  and  o  inany  of  our  earlier  entries  are 
written  over,  :  lubbed  from  the  record,  we  can 
not  decipher  the  date  of  the  birth  of  our  self- 
consciousness.  Richter  is  the  only  one  I  know 
who  gives  the  when  and  where  of  his  first  cog- 
nizance of  self— his  discovery  of  the  ego:  Ich 
bin  ein  ich. 

A  little  undue  attention,  an  amount  of  in- 
dulgence that  it  is  a  pleasure  to  give,  and  almost 
immediately  the  child  is  brought  under  the 
power  of  egotism.     Under  the  hot-house  devel- 


,•..  til  .ifMsmatim'^. 


:d   a  microcosm. 


;»    every 


' little 


/erse;  as  if  each 
r  star  dust  should 
igh  the  infinite 
I  to  enlighten  all, 
entral  point,  the 
)f  the  whole;  and 
I  system  did  not 
tesimal  glory,  it 
)uld  mantle  itself 
at  shining  are  so 
nay  as  well  give 
nish  the  perverse 

we  can  not  note 
)on  ourselves  so 
earlier  entries  are 
le  record,  we  can 
birth  of  our  self- 
only  one  I  know 
;  of  his  first  cog- 

of  the  ego:    Ich 

in  amount  of  in- 
j  give,  and  almost 
ought  under  the 
;  hot-house  devel- 


\ 


■:imr"mm^mmm^^^vi^: 


r 


^^.^a 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


R' 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductlons  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historlques 


t'A^'sr.jiiS 


NOIV  TO  GET  RID  OF  "THE  BLUES."      185 

opment  process,  all  the  pert  sayings  and  pretty 
doings  rehearsed  before  the  helpless  innocent 
while  he  is  subjected  to  an  infinity  of  adulations 
and  flatteries,  it  will  be  strange  if  you  do  not 
see  the  self  smirk  in  his  eye  almost  as  soon  as 
he  can  go  alone. 

The  little  maiden  sulking  in  the  corner  be- 
cause she  can  no^  have  the  very  finest  doll  her 
imagination  can  conceive,  the  small  boy  who  is 
ready  to  burst  into  violent  indignation  because 
he  can  not  whip  every  body  of  his  size,  and  be 
acknowledged  the  prince  and  paragon  in  every 
mannish  line— these  baby  humans  are  already 
in  the  advanced  stages  of  the  disease;  and,  ten 
chances  lo  one,  their  verj'  best  friends  by  the 
sweetmeats  given  in  mistaken  tenderness  have 
thrown  them  intc  ue  paroxysm. 

Our  school  work  is  so  planned  that  we  run  the 
risk  of  a  strong  development  of  egotism  by  our 
eflforts  to  arouse  children  to  a  necessary  mental 
effort.  So  perverse  is  humanity  even  in  the 
dewy  morning  time,  there  seems  to  be  only  one 
way  of  getting  the  lumbering,  clumsy  intellectual 
machinery  in  motion— that  is,  by  stirring  up  the 
egotism.  "Emulation,"  minces  the  teacher; 
"Leaving  off  head,"  shout  the  childre:..  All' 
tlie  same,  a  strengthened  reiteration  of  the  "Oh 
how   pretty!"    of   the     lursery-a   making   of 


1 86 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


each    child's    consciousness   the   center   of   the 
universe. 

Thus,  in  the  cradle,  through  the  school  years 
and  on,  egotism  is  pampered  and  cultured.  It 
grows  with  the  growth,  and  strengthens  with  the 
strength,  till  its  fibers  become  so  interwoven 
with  the  very  tissue  of  the  being  its  removal  is 
like  cutting  a  tumor  from  a  vital  organ — almost 
equivalent  to  taking  the  life  of  the  patient.  In 
mature  years  not  only  do  flatterers,  who  try  to 
secure  favors  from  us  through  our  vanity,  in- 
crease our  opinion  of  our  own  importance,  but 
our  very  efforts  at  self-improvement  lead  in  the 
same  direction. 

Each  human  soul  is  a  grand  temple  built  by 
the  Lord  (as  his  worship.  Wonderful,  ornate, 
glorious,  but  in  ruins.  Gates  broken,  avenues 
choked  up,  walls  prostrate,  arches  fallen.  When 
one  looks  into  his  own  spirit,  when  he  walks' 
over  the  rubbish  of  wrecked  powers,  stumbling 
upon  fragments  of  rarest  architecture,  bits  of 
richest  carving  and  gilding,  jewels  that  might 
blaze  in  a  seraph's  crown,  he  can  but  feel  the 
.excellence  of  this  masterpiece  of  God's  handi- 
work. His  language  is  a  risky  vehicle  trundling 
ove.  r  i\\  causeway,  fit  only  for  baggage-trains 
ladea  ui  animal  needs — he  can  bring,  no  one 
snto  the  shattered  splendor.     He  can  carry  few 


renter   of  the 

e  school  years 
cultured.  It 
:hens  with  the 
10  interwoven 
its  removal  is 
organ — almost 
e  patient.  In 
•s,  who  try  to 
ur  vanity,  in- 
iportance,  but 
It  lead  in  the 

mple  built  by 
krful,  ornate, 
oken,  avenues 
alien.  When 
hen  he  walks' 
ers,  stumbling 
:ture,  bits  of 
Is  that  might 
1  but  feel  the 
God's  handi- 
licle  trundling 
t>aggage-trains 
bring,  no  one 
can  carry  few 


ffOtV  TO  GET  RID  OF  "THE  JJLUES."     187 

specimens  out.  He  can  not  explore  the  inner 
sanctuary  of  any  other  life.  So  he  comes  to 
think,  though  in  ruins,  his  is  the  temple,  par  excel- 
lence. He  tries  to  clear  the  avenues,  set  up  the 
arches,  polish  the  gems,  and  as  he  grows  enthu- 
siastic unless  law  checks  his  careless  hand,  he 
may  wrench  the  guards  from  other  lives,  and 
tear  them  to  pieces  to  build  up  his  OAvn.  Thus 
did  that  prince  of  egotists,  the  great  Napoleon. 

Those  diseases  are  most  to  be  dreaded  that 
skulk  like  an  Indian  enemy,  or  glide  like  ser- 
pents through  the  by-ways  leading  to  the  life. 
In  egotism,  as  in  consumption,  the  patient,  up 
to  the  very  last  hour,  clings  to  the  hope  that  it 
is  a  mistake. 

,  If  you  are  sure  you  at  least  are  exempt,  set 
a  guard  over  your  thoughts  for  one-half  day. 
See  how  carefully  you  hide  any  fact  about  your- 
self that  is  not  altogether  creditable.  How  in- 
geniously, and  yet  apparently  without  intention, 
you  parade  the  items  that  reflect  honor  upon 
self.  Your  visit  to  the  White  House  is  sure  to 
slip  into  the  talk,  while  your  sojourn  in  the 
backwoods  cabin  among  your  poor  relatives 
never  seems  quite  suited  to  point  a  moral,  and 
adorn  a  tale. 

How  much    more   agreeable    it    is    to   have 
strangsrs  regard  you   richer  or  better  educated 


.-» 


i88 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


than  you  really  are,  than  to  have  them  make 
the  opposite  mistake.  Not  that  you  mean  to 
deceive!  Oh,  no.  But  the  habit  of  exalting 
self  is  so  strong,  you  move  in  that  direction 
without  a  noticeable  volition. 

If  one  touches  yourself,  how  you  resent  the 
injury!  He  may  strike  at  the  selves  of  ten 
other  people,  and  you  can  find  a  palliation  for 
the  offense. 

If  we  detect  in  ourselves  the  symptoms  of 
egotism,  we  will  certainly  desire  a  cure.  Our 
very  selfishness  might  prompt  us  to  this ;  for  not 
only  does  egotism  make  itself  and  all  about  un- 
happy by  its  exactions  and  discontent,  it  defeats 
its  own  purpose.  This  is  illustrated  by  success  in 
scholarship.  As  long  as  one  is  occupied  with 
an  earnest  intention  to  get  the  surest  knowledge 
of  the  theme  in  hand,  he  can  but  get  on  in  his 
studies.  But  as  soon  as  his  success  begins  to 
attract  attention  and  subject  him  to  flatteries,  he 
begins  to  fail,  if  he  heeds  them. 

He  is  like  a  boy  playing  in  the  snow.  He 
can  make  a  straight  line  of  steps  as  long  as  he 
keeps  his  eye  on  the  goal ;  but  when  he  looks  at 
his  own  feet  and  notes  every  track,  he  makes  a 
zigzag  line  in  spite  of  himself. 

The  orator  who  is  so  full  of  his  subject  that 
he  forgets  every  thing  in  trj'ing  to  crowd  upon 


■mm^^S^ 


I 


■■MB 


f^rjmmiilimHUa 


them  make 

ou  mean  to 

of  exalting 

lat  direction 

a  resent  the 
lives  of  ten 
talliation  for 

^mptoms  of 
cure.  Our 
this;  for  not 
11  about  un- 
nt,  it  defeats 
»y  success  in 
cupied  with 
t  knowledge 
et  on  in  his 
ss  begins  to 
flatteries,  he 

snow.     He 

\  long  as  he 

he  looks  at 

he  makes  a 

subject  that 
crowd  upon 


now  TO  GET  RID  OF  "TJJ/i  BLUES."      189 

his  hearers  the  thought  that  stirs  his  own  soul, 
is  the  one  who  is  pronounced  eloquent;  while 
the  one  who  forgets  his  subject  in  himself  usu- 
ally fails. 

In  no  department  of  effort  is  egotism  more 
surely  fatal  to  success  than  in  religious  work. 
Those  who  have  been  specially  used  by  God  to 
carry  forward  his  work  are  in  great  danger  of 
this  infirmity.  Their  good  works  come  to  be 
spoken  of  with  praise;  and  they  find  it  easy  to 
lose  sight  of  the  fact  that  all  reformatory  power 
is  vested  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  their 
only  hope  of  success  is  in  humble  reliance  upon 
his  working  in  them  and  with  them. 

When  one  forgets  that  he  is  only 

"A  messenger  at  Christ's  gateway 
Waiting  for  l»is  command," 

he  ceases  to  rely  upon  the  Lord,  and  he  soon 
finds  himself  shorn  of  strength. 

He  may  keep  up  the  forms  of  earnestness, 
he  may  use  the  tones  and  forms  of  expression 
that  belonged  to  the  time  when  he  was  full  of 
power  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord,  his  talk  may  be 
full  of  stories  of  the  old  days  when  the  pleasure 
of  the  Lord  prospered  in  his  hand,  yet  his 
effort  comes  to  be  like  the  mechanical  move- 
ments of  a  corpse,  loathsome  and  disgusting. 
His  egotism  has  killed  his  usefulness;  and  un- 


imm 


190 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


less  there  is  a  revivification,  the  sooner  the  dead 
is  buried  out  of  our  sight  the  better. 

Can  egotism  be  aired?  Can  one  who  has  be- 
come conscious  that  much  of  his  thought  is 
taken  up  with  the  interests  of  self,  leaving  but 
little  vigor  for  high  intellectual  effort,  or  earnest 
spiritual  v/ork,  one  who  finds  his  very  humility 
a  misno  ner  for  self  pity,  his  despondency  over 
his  failur.  s  simply  a  morbid  craving  for  self-adu- 
lation— can  such  a  one  hope  for  a  :ure? 

There  can  be  but  one  answer.  If  one  hopes 
to  enter  heaven,  he  must  be  saved  from  this  in- 
firmity— this  sin.  Otherwise  he  would  not  have 
peace  even  in  the  home  of  the  glorified. 

We  who  do  not  believe  in  purgatory  must 
look  for  a  cure  in  this  life. 

By  what  means  can  this  be  effected?  Again, 
We  find  but  one  answer.  Self-salvation  is  out 
of  the  question.  We  can  not  fortify  self  against 
self  It  holds  the  inner  fortress.  The  very 
pean  of  victory  over  its  fall  may  herald  its  re-en- 
thronement. 

We  can  not  reduce  it  to  surrender  by  scourg- 
Ings  and  starvation.  Romanists  have  wrought 
upon  that  problem  unsuccessfully  for  ages. 

There  can  be  nothing  in  the  hour  and  article 
of  death  to  work  a  radical  change  in  jthe  moral 
nature. 


■pp" 


ner  the  dead 

who  has  be- 
i  thought  is 
leaving  but 
rt,  or  earnest 
ery  humiUty 
>ndency  over 
r  for  self-adu- 
ure? 

If  one  hopes 
from  this  in- 
>uld  not  have 
ified. 
rgatory  must 

ted?  Again, 
ration  is  out 
y  self  against 
The  very 
raid  its  re-en- 

er  by  scourg- 
lave  wrought 
[>r  ages, 
ur  and  article 
in  jthe  moral 


mtf 


ffOIV  TO  GET  KID  OF  "THE  SELVES"      191 

We  must  be  liberated  by  a  powe*-  not  our- 
selves, above  ourselves,  in  this  life,  or  we  must 
wear  the  chain  forever. 

Our  only  hope  is  in  the  word  of  the  Master: 
"If  the  Son  therefore  shall  make  you  '.ree,  ye 
shall  be  free  indeed." 

The  salvation  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Chr'st  is  the 
only  cure  for  this  inwrouglit,  over-mas>,ering  sel- 
fishness.  Unless  the  atonement  itself  is  a  fail- 
ure—a tragical  mistake,  in  Christ  there  must  be 
an  unfailing  remedy  for  this  and  all  other  sins. 

A  reasonable  command  presupposes  power 
to  obey.  God's  injunctions  are  eq-'.ivalent  to 
promises.  If  we  do  our  best  to  obey,  he  is 
pledged  by  his  Word  and  held  by  consistency 
with  his  own  declarations  of  purpose  to  give  us 
needed  grace  and  help. 

Unless  the  commands,  "Thou  shalt  love  thy 
neighbor  as  thyself,"  "Rejoice  evermore,"  "In 
every  thing  give  thanks,"  be  sheer  nonsense,  the 
power  to-  yield  complete  obedience  is  promised 
ill  the  all-sufficient  grace  of  Clirist. 

There  have  been  examples  of  men  and  v  >  ,iun 
being  completely  cured  of  egotism  by  the  po^er 
of  grace,  fiery  souls  that  have  become  all  tender- 
ness and  charity,  turbulent  spirits  that  have' 
been  changed  into  gentleness  and  patience;  com- 
plaining, petulant  egotists  that  have  learned  to 


■ 


193 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


give  self  utterly  and  joyfully  for  the  salvation 

"of  others. 

It  was  said  of  St.  Jerome,  ' '  He  subdued  the 
wild  beasts  of  the  desert,  but  it  took  the  Master 
of  all  to  tame  the  lion,  Jerome." 

When  we  lay  our  selfish  souls  in  the  hands 
of  the  Great  Physician  for  a  cure,  he  gives  us  to 
know  the  meaning  of  those  words  of  the  apostle,- 
"AU  things  work  together  for  good  to  them  that 
love  God."  We  rest  from  care  of  the  adjust- 
ment of  our  relations  and  our  work,  for  we  cast 
all  our  care  on  him  who  careth  for  u.s.  We  are 
careful  for  nothing,  but  in  every  thing  by  prayer 
and  supplication  with  thanksgiving  we  let  our 
requests  be  made  known  unto  God,  and  the 
peace  of  God  which  passeth  all  understanding 
shall  keep  our  hearts  and  minds  through  Christ 

Jesus. 

We  will  be  able  to  say  without  hyperbole, 
"Thanks  be  unto  God  which  always  causeth  us 
to  triumph  in  Christ." 


ihma. 


yTWt»tajai{?fcii.fa. 


■•^ 


i 


the  salvation 

e  subdued  the 
lok  the  Master 

}  in  the  hands 
he  gives  us  to 
of  the  apostle, 
d  to  them  that 

of  the  adjust- 
rk,  for  we  cast 
>r  us.  We  are 
hing  by  prayer 
ng  we  let  our 
God,  and   the 

understanding 
through  Christ 

lOut  hyperbole, 
vays  causeth  us 


■"^ 


GETTING  RICH. 


193 


\  17  ANT  is  universal.  It  tugs  at  every  human 
*  »  heart.  It  sobs  in  thfl  infant's  wail.  It 
echoes  in  the  old  man's  moan.  It  jangles 
through  our  shouts  of  mirth.  Its  discords  grate 
and  errind  in  our  songs  of  triumph. 

:e  being  that  bears  sway  in  this  evil  world 
is  not  the  man  of  paradise  with  the  chrism  of 
God's  "very  good"  upon  his  forehead.  This 
man  wants  persistently,  perpetually.  He  de- 
mands violently.  He  seizes  furiously.  A  child 
in  reason,  a  beast  in  appetite. 

Yet  he  mistakes  forever.  He  does  not  un- 
derstand his  own  need.  It  is  the  mind  that 
wants.  It  is  the  soul  that  starves.  Will  we 
never  learn  this?  When  we  do,  I  think  the  mil- 
lennium will  not  be  very  far  away.  This  cry  of 
want  is  ceaseless.  It  will  not  down.  It  is 
heard  alike  in  cabin  and  cottage,  hut  and  palace. 
Listen  at  the  door  of  the  heart  of  that  savage. 
He  gormandi::es  like  an  anaconda,  and  lies  in 
the  sun  like  a  lizard.     He  cares  for  his  mate  and 

•3 


»94 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


her  young  about  as  the  lion  does,  sheds  blood 
a  ruthlessly  as  the  tiger;  yet  throu^^h  the  beastly 
wr.>ngling  of  passions,  the  low  swash  of  the  tide 
of  brutish  appetites,  and  the  yell  of  cruel  butchery 
sounds  ever  that  moaning  undertone  of  the  bet- 
ter being,— hungry,  hungry,  hungry! 

Turn  to  the  man  who  sits  a  king.  Not  a 
king  made  of  purple  and  gems,  into  whose  hand 
has  chanced  to  fall  a  scepter,  but  the  one  who 
rules  in  the  thought  realm,  and  makes  laws  for 
potentates.  Listen  to  his  secret  heart-throbs. 
Is  he  satisfied  ?  He,  too,  feels  a  pinching,  wear- 
ing, perpetual  want. 

The  present  human  state  is  abnormal.     We 
are  shipwrecked  on  an  enemy's  shore.     Stunned, 
stupid,  we  can  not  decipher  the  cabalistic  char- 
acters of  the  past.     We  do  not  know  the  vernac- 
ular of  present  events.     We  will  not  even  bend 
our  ear  to  the  whispers  of  our  own  inner  being. 
What  wonders  would  be  wrought  by  giving  one 
half  hour  of  each  twenty-four  to  the  study  of  self- 
needs.     Listen  to  your  own  better  life.     It  will 
tell  you  strange,  new  things.     You  have  treated 
yourself  as  a  nurse  does  the  baby  she  doses  out 
of  the  world.     It  moans— down  with  an  opiate. 
It  wails  with  hunger— thrust  a  sweetened,  sick- 
ening compound   down  its  throat.     It  writhes 
with  pain— toss  it,  shake  it,  trot  it,  give  it  any 


■•^ 


GETTING  RICH. 


I,  sheds  blood 
t^h  the  beastly 
ish  of  the  tide 
cruel  butchery 
>ne  of  the  bet- 

ry! 

king.  Not  a 
to  whose  hand 
it  the  one  who 
tiakes  laws  for 
t  heart-throbs, 
pinching,  wear- 

bnormal.     We 
ore.     Stunned, 
cabalistic  char- 
low  the  vernac- 
not  even  bend 
m  inner  being, 
by  giving  one 
le  study  of  self- 
er  life.     It  will 
3u  have  treated 
ff  she  doses  out 
with  an  opiate, 
sweetened,  sick- 
)at.     It  writhes 
t  if,  give  it  any 


*9S 


thing,  every  thing  but  the  patient  attention,  the 
sure  care  and  healthful  food  for  which  it  is  dying. 
Want  prompts  to  acquire.     A  babe  is  iiungry. 
It  thrusts  into  its  mouth  its  fist,  or  the  corner 
of  its  cradle  quilt,  now  a  bit  of  broken  pottery, 
then  a  flower  pretty  to  look  upon,  but  with  a 
poison  drop  at  its  heart,  — whatever  comes  within 
reach  of  the  eager,  senseless  clutch.     As  aim- 
lessly do  grown-up  children  struggle  to  acquire, 
One  attempts  to  satisfy  his  hunger  with  epi- 
curean   luxuries.      Dyspepsia    and    gout    stand 
guard,  but  he  will  have   these  dainties  for  the 
animal,  no  matter  about  the  consequence. 

Another  seeks  elegant  adornments.  Worms 
from  Europe,  sheep  from  Asia,  and  small,  wild 
creatures  from  Arctic  deserts  are  put  under  tax. 
Human  lives  are  woven  and  stitched  into  his 
fabrics,  and  yet  he  tires  oi'  their  beauty.  It  can 
not  quiet  the  inner  clamor. 

Another  translates  the  cry  into  a  demand 
for  social  preferment.  He  must  rise  above  the 
common  herd.  So  he  tugs  and  toils,  cuts  fur- 
rows in  his  forehead,  wears  grooves  in  his  heart, 
and  scrambles  upward.  Yet  the  want,  like  the 
sea's  eternal  moan,  surges  ever  through  his  life, 
only  stronger  for  the  aloneness  of  the  altitude.' 
Another,  a  trifle  wiser,  thinks  to  purchase 
silence  with  choice   mental  viands.     He   seeks 


•^ 


jg6 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


rare  authors,  books  bubbling  with  the  ripe,  red 
wine  of  poesy,  resonant  with  the  grand,  heroic 
chimes  sounded  down  through  the  ages  by  noble 
souls, — yet  never  for  an  hour  does  the  hunger 
cease  its  gnawings. 

Most  people  think  to  satisfy  themselves  with 
money  and  the  fine  things  it  will  purchase.  Only 
fabulous  misers  who  starve  in  garrets,  bathing 
their  leathery  arms  in  golden  coin,  love  money 
for  its  clink  and  glitter.  The  multitude  seek  it 
as  the  sinews  of  appetite,  taste,  and  ambition. 
One  has  been  trodden  upon  in  his  babyhood, 
chilled  in  his  boyish  years,  hi?  ragged  coat  jeered 
at  on  the  play-ground.  He  sees  that  fine  cloth- 
ing brings  gentle  treatment  and  what  passes  for 
respect.  He  is  cold  and  hungry.  He  must 
have  gentleness  and  attention.  They  are  in  the 
market  for  gold.  So  he  sets  his  purpose  like  a 
flint  to  get  gold. 

Another  lacks  courage.  He  rates  himself  at 
a  low  figure.  If  he  can  get  the  stamp  of  the 
world's  mint  upon  his  coinage  he  will  believe  it 
genuine.  If  he  can  have  a  good  market  price 
for  his  wares  he  will  settle  it  that  they  are 
valuable.  He  will  be  satisfied,  though  he  loses 
within  an  hour  all  they  bring. 

One  has  been  robbed  by  death,  and  left  quite 
alone,  even  in  the  chill  morning  gray.    He  fancies 


mm 


9- 


GF.TTING  RICH. 


197 


the  ripe,  red 
frand,  heroic 
ges  by  noble 
I  the  hunger 

mselves  with 
:hase.  Only 
rets,  bathing 
love  money 
:itude  seek  it 
nd  ambition, 
s  babyhood, 
■d  coat  jeered 
at  fine  cloth- 
lat  passes  for 
He  must 
ey  are  in  the 
urpose  like  a 

tes  himself  at 
stamp  of  the 
vill  believe  it 
market  price 
hat  they  are 
lugh  he  loses 

and  left  quite 
J.    He  fancies 


that  money  will   buy  friends,  so  he  also  gives 
himself  to  getting  wealth. 

We  plume  ourselves  that  we  are  not  ideal— 
we  are  the  plain,  sensible  people  who  say  what 
we  mean  and  believe  what  we  say.     Imaginative 
folk  are  tl.ey  who  gaze  at  the  moon  and  make 
rhymes.     Yet  try  us  by  placing  a  bit  of  paper 
m  our  hands  with  the  national  promise  to  pay  in 
its  criss-cross  of  engraved  lines.     It  might  mean 
to    the   monomaniac  in   the  garret  a   thousand 
shining  dollars.     The  sensualist  clasps  it  in  his 
eager    palms    and    sees    wine    sparkling,    cigar 
smoke  wreathing,  horses  prancing,  gems  flash- 
ing.  light  feet  tinkling,  music  rippling,  laughter 
ringing. 

To  the  artistic,  it  means  a  sail  on  the  moon- 
lit, castled  Rhine,  Swiss  mountain  views,  studies 
of  the  old  masters,  rambles  among  ruins  of 
Rome  and  Athens. 

To  the  literary,  it  represents  walks  alone  with 
calm-orowed  old  sages,  hymns  of  immortal  vigor, 
racy  chats  with  spicy  moderns. 

The  dullest  dolt  holding  it  in  his  hand,  the 
magic  little  possessive  "mine"  tingling  on  his 
tongue  tip,   would  hardly  fail  to  see  in  it  the 
things  for  which  he  thinks  the  want  within  him' 
clamoring. 

We  talk  of  the  idealism  of  ancient  pagans 


mm 


\g8 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


who  looked  into  the  calm,  mild  eyes  of  the 
sacred  ox  to  see  the  Spirit  of  Eternal  Power  and 
Patience— forgetting  the  beast  in  the  idea  for 
which  it  stood.  We  are  not  a  whit  less  imagi- 
native. We  seize  bits  of  green-tinted,  pictured 
paper,  to  acquire  which  we  have  risen  early  and 
sat  up  late  and  eaten  the  bread  of  carefulness— 
we  think  we  see  in  them  the  satisfying  of  the 
needs  that  crowd  us  to  effort. 

The  ignorant  Hindoo  worships  the  image  he 
carries  in  his  robe.     The  Brahmin  may  claim  to 
have  his  thought  upon  the  spirit  represented  by 
the  idol.     Yet  the  soul  of  each  is  bowed  before 
a  low  sensualism  of  his  own  production.     The 
name  matters  little.     The  mode  is  of  small  con- 
sequence.    If  we  were  to  demolish  all  the  idols 
of  heathendom,  unless  by  some  divine  process 
we  could  get  into  the  pagan  soul  a  nobler  idea 
of  the  Infinite,  the  result  would  be  only  a  new 
harvest  for  the  image-makers,  a  new  growth  of 
sensuality.     To   correct  the  disordered  expres- 
sion of  our  sense  of  need,  the  ideal  must  be 
renovated.    The  want  must  be  interpreted  aright. 
Many  of  our  tnodes  of  getting  rich  are  honor- 
able; but  others  are  evil,  even  under  the  sanc- 
tion of  law.     If  a  man  chances  to  be  born  the 
heir  of  a  coronet  or  a  crown,  that  accident  en- 
titles him  to  the  result  of  the  hard  work  of 


«ii><Uite«fcWllf*i*MMi|»'t>'«faWi'-'«'«t''i 


■■P" 


^n 


9 


;yes  of  the 
I  Power  and 
he  idea  for 
:  less  imagi- 
ed,  pictured 
;n  early  and 
:arefulness — 
fying  of  the 

he  image  he 
nay  claim  to 
presented  by 
(owed  before 
action.     The 
of  small  con- 
all  the  idols 
ivine  process 
a  nobler  idea 
:  only  a  new 
w  growth  of 
lered   expres- 
leal  must  be 
preted  aright. 
ch  are  honor- 
der  the  sanc- 
»  be  born  the 
t  accident  en- 
lard  work   of 


■■P" 


GETTING  RICH. 


199 


scores  of  others  who  must  starve,  body  and  soul 
for  his  enrichment. 

The  trouble  lies  back  of  the  grinding  and 
oppression,  the  thefts  and  robberies.  There  is 
an  unsound  idea  in  the  foundation  of  the  social 
structure — a  wrong  rendering  of  the  need — a  de- 
termination to  be  rich  in  purse  only,  and  not  in 
mind  and  soul. 

Under  this  regime  three  people  have  to  be 
ground  up,  spirit  and  muscle,  that  the  fourth 
may  have  the  means  of  satisfying  his  hunger. 
The  question  turns  upon  who  shall  be  the  for- 
tunate fourth  in  this  struggle.  The  answer  is 
usually  the  old  formula  of  the  survival  of  the 
fittest — the  strongest  of  sinew  or  brain  or  will, 
or  by  that  aggregate  of  will,  known  as  law. 

If  they  who  have  power  to  put  others  under 
tax  comprehended  that  their  own  want  could 
be  satisfied  only  by  the  enduring  riches,  they 
would  find  means  to  live  in  the  good  and  the 
right  way,  without  harm  to  others. 

We  begin  early  to  give  our  children  a  wrong 
bias  in  this  matter.  The  want  within  sets  the 
little  one  reaching  after  whatever  is  desirable. 
Parents,  too  thoughtless,  too  indolent,  or  too  in- 
tent on  getting  money  to  give  due  attention  - 
even  to  so  weighty  a  matter  as  the  shaping  of 
the  characters  of  their  children,  satisfy  them- 


it 


300 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


selves  by  flinging  a  legal  barrier  in  the  path  of 
the  inclination.  There  is  no  effort  to  teach  the 
restless,  grasping  little  being  that  it  is  a  higher 
pleasure  to  give  to  make  others  happy,  to  share, 
to  know. 

He  soon  comes  to  believe  that  he  must  pos- 
sess if  he  would  enjoy;  an  error  in  the  formulae 
of  the  first  chapter. 

Then  the  tin  savings-bank  for  hoarding  pen- 
nies. To  buy  comforts  for  the  sick  child  back 
in  the  alley,  bread  for  the  poor.  Bibles  for  the 
heathen?  Oh,  no<  To  teach  liim  to  be  saving. 
"To  see  how  much  he  can  get."  Your  child 
hardly  needs  to  be  taught  that  he  must  get  and 
save  money  if  he  would  be  happy.  The  world 
will  wear  that  lessdn  into  him  soon  enough. 
Possibly  as  a  birth-gift  he  has  received  quite  too 
strong  a  tendency  in  that  direction. 

Mother,  would  you  look  for  the  ripened  fruit 
of  your  careless  sowing?  See  yourself  thirty 
years  hence,  infirm,  old,  alone.  Your  son  will 
not  starve  you  in  a  garret.  He  is  too  proud  for 
that — too  humane,  possibly — but  not  too  humane 
to  starve  you  in  a  corner  of  his  mansion.  He 
has  grown  rich.  The  soil  of  his  heart  is  tramped 
down,  trodden  hard  by  the  ceaseless  round  of 
bargains,  sales,  moneyed  schemes.  His  life's 
horizon   is   narrowed,   and   its   atmosphere   his 


mmm 


i 


GETTING  RICH. 


301 


1  the  path  of 

to  teach  the 

it  is  a  higher 

>py,  to  share, 

he  must  pos- 
1  the  formulae 

hoarding  pen- 
:k  child  back 
Jibles  for  the 
to  be  saving. 
'  Your  child 
must  get  and 
■.  The  world 
soon  enough, 
ved  quite  too 

;  ripened  fruit 
ourself  thirty 
four  son  will 
too  proud  for 
3t  too  humane 
nansion.  He 
art  is  tramped 
less  round  of 
s.  His  life's 
Tiosphere   his 


grown  cold,  till  he  has  never  for  you  a  word  of 
cheer  or  tenderness.  He  orders  for  you  delicate 
food  and  expensive  clothing,  but  he  withholds 
the  cup  of  cold  water  so  sorely  needed  in  your 
outworn  life.  Self-centered  and  sordid  through 
greed  of  gain,  he  follows  the  bent  you  gave  him 
when  you  had  him  under  your  hand. 

We  must  make  our  children  understand  in 
the  outset  that  to  be  happy  is  not  to  gratify 
every  appetite  like  a  mere  animal,  nor  to  strut 
about  in  showy  plumage  like  a  peacock,  nor  to 
keep  upon  the  crest  of  the  wave  of  excitement, 
forever  amused  and  entertained;  but,  rather,  joy 
is  found  in  doing  good,  conquering  self,  making 
others  glad,  living  by  the  Heavenly  Father's 
law.  Children  can  be  taught  these  lessons. 
We  have  seen  the  experiment  carried  out  suc- 
cessfully. 

"Oh,  yes,"  sighs  an  overtasked  mother;  "it 
is  easy  enough  to  toss  off  fine  theories  from  a 
pen's  point;  but  just  step  into  my  place  once." 

r  know  "mother"  is  a  synonym  for  "sacri- 
fice." I  know  there  are  mothers  who  stagger 
under  the  entire  load  of  trainijiig  the  family — ^a 
load  that  is  quite  enough  for  two  pairs  of 
shoulders — while  the  senior  partner  of  the  firm 
gives  himself  altogether  to  the  commissary  de- 
partment; but  my  exhortation  is  intended  .spe- 


ll 

i 


w^ 


■n^ig^ 


303 


DIAMOND  DL'Sr. 


cially  for  those  who  make  eating  and  drinking 
and  appearing  well  the  chief  end  of  man.  Bet- 
ter a  thousand  times  leave  the  trimming  off  the 
dress  and  put  the  love  into  the  heart. 

When  a  boy  is  grown,  he  will  be  not  a  whit 
less  a  man  for  having  worn  garments  minus 
ruffles  and  embroidery.  He  will  be  infinitely 
nobler  if  you  spend  the  time  carefully  culturing 
the  germs  of  thought  and  the  growth  of  unself- 
ish purpose.  Now  is  your  time.  We  reap  in 
Autumn  what  we  sow  in  Spring. 

Novelists  help  on  our  foolish  notions  about 
getting  rich.  The  old  trick  of  having  a  chrys- 
alis page  or  artist  burst  suddenly  into  a  grand 
duke  or  prince  is  worn  out,  but  the  principle 
holds  all* the  same.  Hero  and  heroine  must 
marry  and  be  rich.  Moral:  Success  equals 
wealth ;  wealth  equals  happiness. 

Practical  lesson:  young  man,  get  rich,  honor- 
ably, if  convenient,  but  at  all  events  get  rich. 
Young  lady,  marry  a  fortune;  at  all  hazards 
catch  a  rich  husband. 

Society  also  helps  strengthen  this  false  order 
of  things.  Two  friends  meet.  One  inquires 
how  a  mutual  acquaintance  is  getting  along. 
These  are  sensible  men.  The  question  must  re- 
fer to  the  growth  and  culture  of  the  mind  that 
is  avowedly   of   prime   importance.     They  are 


f 


and  drinking 
>f  man.  Bet- 
nming  off  the 
irt. 

be  not  a  whit 
rments  minus 
be  infinitely 
fully  culturing 
wth  of  unself- 
We  reap  in 

notions  about 

iving  a  chrys- 

into  a  grand 

the  principle 

heroine   must 

iuccess    equals 

;et  rich,  honor- 
ents  get  rich, 
at  all  hazards 

this  false  order 
One  inquires 
getting  along, 
estion  must  re- 
the  mind  that 
ce.     They  are 


fx»imafi-ee,'.^aa 


imm 


CETTING  RICH. 


203 


Christians.  It  must  look  in  the  direction  of  the 
man's  spiritual  interests.  Nothing  of  the  kind. 
It  means  simply,  How  much  money  docs  he' 
make.  In  what  style  does  he  live.  "Oh,  he  is 
doing  splendidly."  How?  Working  out  a  plan 
for  helping  others  into  a  better  life?  Turning 
many  to  righteousness?  Growing  in  God's  good 
will?  No,  indeed.  Little  cares  he  for  moral 
distinctions  or  benefits.  "Doing  splendidly," 
in  every-day  Saxon,  is  simply  getting  money 
and  spending  it  upon  one's  self. 

The  notions  of  society  are  mia.^matic.     Un- 
less one  carries  a  powerful   dislnfecUint,  he  can 
but  take  in  the  poison.     Only  now  and  then  one 
uses  this  precaution,  so  the  majority  take  the 
fever  of  getting  rich.     That  little  adjective  may 
mean  a  red  flannel  shirt  and  a  string  of  glass 
beads,  or   it   may  mean   a   kingdom.     It  may 
stand  for  a  big  potato  patch  and  an  immeasur- 
able supply  of  whisky,  or  it  may  represent  an 
additional  empire.     Some  fling  society's  "thus 
far"  in  her  face,  and  take  to  the  high  seas  with 
the  prospect  of  being  launched  into  perdition 
from    the    rope's    end.      Others   cheat   behind 
counters,  more  cowardly,  but  with  no  less  risk 
of  final  loss.     Some  wait  for  gold  to  drop  from  " 
dead  hands;  others  plod  on,  year  after  year,  to 
get  rich  by  steady  work. 


mtk 


r 


204 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


Wc  may  flatter  ourselves  that  we  do  not  care 
for  money.  Possibly  not,  according  to  the  aspi- 
rations of  miserly  A,  epicurean  B,  or  dashing 
young  C ;  but  it  will  be  strange  if  our  faces  are 
not  set  towards  some  other  point  which  means 
the  same  thing. 

We  are  saying  to  ourselves,  "Now,  this  sac- 
rifice, this  strain  of  will,  nerve,  or  muscle,  and 
then  such  a  luxury,  such  style  by  and  by. "  Here 
is  a  chaos  of  the  odds  and  ends  of  desirable 
things  which  go  to  the  make-up  of  a  fortune, 
and  which  will  satisfy  no  more  when  once  ac- 
quired than  do  the  cheap,  simple  purchases  of 
to-day. 

Nothing  can  be  more  hopeless  than  the  at- 
tempt to  satiate  the  soul's  thirst  with  riches  or 
the  best  that  they  can  buy.  They  who  have 
most  money  are  the  most  eager  to  increase  their 
wealth. 

Some  gentlemen  in  a  public  room  in  New 
York  City  were  discussing  the  amount  of  prop- 
erty necessary  to  satisfy  one  completely.  One 
man  thought  a  quarter  of  a  million  would  be 
enough.  "  No, "  said  another,  • '  I  shall  not  leave 
business  till  I  have  at  least  half  a  million." 
"  Pooh  I"  said  a  third,  "one  ought  to  have  two 
or  three  millions." 

Just   then    a    money-king    hurried   into   the 


e  do  not  care 
g  to  the  aspi- 
3,  or  dashing 
our  faces  are 
which  means 

low,  this  sac- 
muscle,  and 
dby."  Here 
of  desirable 
of  a  fortune, 
hen  once  ac- 
purchases  of 

than  the  at- 
^ith  riches  or 
!y  who  have 
increase  their 

oom  in  New 
>unt  of  prop- 
)letely.  One 
)n  would  be 
hall  not  leave 
a  million." 
to  have  two 

ied   into   the 


GETTING  KICH. 


aos 


room— one  of  those  who  always  go  as  if  the 
hounds  of  starvation  were  snarling  at  their  heels. 
With  an  apology  for  detaining  him  they  asked 
how  much  he  thought  necessary  to  satisfy  the 
desire  for  gain.  ' '  A  little  tttore  /  "  he  snapped,  as 
he  rushed  on.  His  reply  emphasized  the  fact 
.that  acquiring  only  whets  the  appetite  to  ac- 
quire. The  acquisition  of  property  does  not  se- 
cure happiness. 

Fortunately  very  few  reach  the  goal  toward 
which  so  many  tug  and  strain.  And  the  few 
who  call  themselves  "successful"  are  the  most 
unsuccessful  of  all. 

How  seldom  do  you  see  a  rich  old  man  whose 
face  is  sweet,  and  calm,  and  restful.  Most  of  them 
in  seeking  monetary  wealth  have  neglected  to  ac- 
quire mental  riches  and  spiritual  affluence.  See 
the  ridges  of  care,  the  furrows  of  pain  upon  their 
foreheads,  and  the  tense,  sharp  lines  about  their 
keen,  uneasy  eyes— lines  of  bitterness  and  disap- 
pointment. No  need  of  prodigal  sons  and  un- 
grateful daughters  to  plant  with  thorns  their  pil- 
low  of  death.  Long  as  is  their  rent-roll  and 
profitable  as  are  their  stocks,  they  themselves  are 

'•  Heart-bare,  heart-hungry,  very  poor." 

Of  all  the  calentures  that  lure  to  the  grave,    ' 
of  all  the  ignesfaiui  that  dance  over  death  mires, 
none  is  so  deadly  as  the  greed  of  gain.     Not 


mtm 


^tmmimm 


mm 


906 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


alone  is  the  body  cheated  out  of  rest  and  care  in 
its  treadmill,  but  the  mind  is  robbed  of  devel- 
opment  and  the  soul  is  wrecked  eternally. 

The  Master,  who  never  used  words  carelessly, 
said,  "How  hardly  shall  they  that  have  riches 
enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven  !" 

We  pity  those  who  trudge  ever  in  the  service 
of  coil,  or  slip  on  the  icy  stair  of  fortune,  but 
how  infinitely  more  do  they  deserve  our  commis- 
eration who  succeed  in  building  for  themselves  a 
gilded  mausoleum,  a  tomb  not  only  for  the  burial 
of  the  poor  outworn  body  but  of  the  mind  and 
soul. 

"  Thus  did  a  choking  wanderer  in  the  desert  cry, 

•  O  that  Allah  one  prayer  would  grant  before  I  die, 
That  I  might  stand  up  to  my  knees  in  a  cool  lake, 

My  burning  tongue  and  parching  throat  in  it  to  slake.* 
No  lake  he  saw,  and  when  they  found  him  in  the  wasta 
A  bag  of  gems  and  gold  lay  just  before  his  face. 
And  his  dead  hand  a  paper,  with  this  writing,  grasped, 

•  Worthless  was  wealth,  when  dying  for  water,  I  gasped.' 
Be  diadem  or  helmet  on  thy  head, 

It  must  be  arrow-pierced,  and  thou  lie  dead. 
Then  every  man  whose  mind  is  wisdom-stocked, 
Will  strive  to  have  his  wealth  in  Heaven  locked." 


illiiil 


iitiiiiifmiiiiMmmmmmm 


mm 


GIVING  BY  RULE. 


307 


St  and  care  in 
bed  of  devel- 
ernally. 
rds  carelessly, 
it  have  riches 

in  the  service 

fortune,  but 

i  our  commis- 

'  themselves  a 

for  the  burial 
the  mind  and 

:rt  cry, 
fore  I  die, 
cool  lake, 
:  in  it  to  slake.* 
lim  ill  the  waste 
his  face. 

irriiin(r,  grasped, 
t^ater,  I  gasped.' 

lend, 
■stocked, 
!ii  locked." 


T^HE  world  is  in  revolt,  and  God's  main  effort 
^  toward  it  is  to  bring  about  a  surrender 
It  is  a  principle  of  healthful  reconstruction 
that  each  loyal  subject  shall  use  all  his  strength 
to  bring  the  rest  into  subjection.    God  would  con- 
script every  thing  in  which  there -is  power  and 
use  It  in  the  conquest  of  these  revolted  provinces 
If  all  who  surrender  to  God   would  observe 
this  obligation  I  doubt  if  the  next  century  would 
dawn  upon  a  single  rebel.     The  trouble  is,  very 
few  of  us  are  in  downright  earnest*  to  carry  out 
God's  plans. 

We  hire  some  one  as  economically  as  possible 
to  offer  eloquent  prayers  for  us,  and  give  us  fine 
disquisitions  upon  morality;  we  give  the  pittance 
that  IS  teased  out  of  us  by  some  one  who  denies 
himself  almost  the  necessaries  of  life  that  he  may 
make  us  see  our  duty  toward  the  neglected 
masses,  and  then  we  settle  back  in  our  snug 
pews  voting  ourselves  quite  respectable,  comfort- 
able Christians. 


mm 


*»»ite&«i*''i((tewa«KiiM««»«i^ 


-  **  '^A^  Sifc-Ji^ -I'.'-ii.l^JUii^ 


T-1 


•08 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


God  may  collect  arrears  of  us  by  force  of 
aims.  He  obliged  this  republic,  a  few  years 
since,  to  pay  for  cannon  and  ironclads  what  she 
would  not  give  for  school-houses,  and  churches. 

If  we  will  not  evangelize  the  masses  we  must 
keep  them  under  by  armed  force,  and  we  find 
that  God's  police,  civilization  and  Christianity, 
missionaries  and  Bibles,  are  by  far  the  most  eco- 
nomical, considered  simply  from  a  financial  point 
of  view.  Riots  and  wars  force  men  to  give  by 
the  thousand  in  self-defense — men  from  whose 
grip  a  few  dollars  for  God's  work  are  wrenched 
most  difficultly — and  the  moneyed  outlay  is  by 
far  the  cheapest  part  of  their  giving. 

Never  before  were  there  so  many  doors  open 
as  now  to  Christian  effort.  Red-handed  war  has 
torn  open  the  rusty  gates  of  sepulchral,  old  East- 
ern empires.  China,  Japan,  India,  Africa,  South 
America,  Mexico,  with  their  swarming  millions, 
are  thirsting,  dying  for  the  truth  of  God.  If  the 
Christian  Church,  if  Protestant  America  alone, 
would  give  and  work  as  God  wills,  the  world 
would  be  evangelized  within  the  century. 

Christianity  is  based  upon  self-giving.  Christ 
is  God's  "  unspeakable  gift."  They  who  are  one 
with  him  in  his  work  must  go 

"  Toiling  up  new  Calvaries  ever, 
Wilh  tlie  cross  that  turns  not  back." 


aiMMH 


mmmm 


# 


by  force  of 
a  few  years 
ids  what  she 
nd  churches, 
iscs  we  must 
and  we  find 
Christianity, 
de  most  eco- 
nancial  point 
1  to  give  by 
from  whose 
re  wrenched 
outlay  is  by 

'  doors  open 
ided  war  has 
al,  old  East- 
Vfrica,  South 
ing  millions, 
jod.  If  the 
erica  alone, 
i,  the  world 
tury. 

'ing.  Christ 
who  are  one 


k." 


GIVING   BY  RULB.  209 

He  who  is  complete  in  Christ  gives  himself 
for  the  helping  of  others  as  certainly  as  did  Je- 
sus the  Master,    not  as  a  propitiatory  sacrifice, 
but  as  a  working  force.     He  may  labor  with  his 
hands,  as  did  Paul  at  Corinth  ;  he  may  write  dic- 
tionaries and  French  grammars,  as  did  John  Wes- 
ley ;  yet  his  one  thought  and  purpose  arc  to  get 
all  with  whom  he  has  contact,  and  whom  he  can 
reach  with  any  sort  of  influence,  back  to  their 
allegiance  to  God.     And  this  is  the  normal  Chris- 
tian life.     Any  consecration  less  than  this  is  un- 
sound,  unhealthy,  defective. 

When  one  has  really  given  all  to  God's  work 
it  is  unnecessary  to  argue  the  duty  of  giving 
money  to  carry  on  its  operations.  The  greater  in- 
cludes the  less.  There  is  no  use  in  prating  about 
a  "  complete  consecration  "  if  one  holds  his  dol- 
lars  with  a  stingy  grip,  while  the  Lord's  work  is 
suffering  for  financial  help. 

It  is  a  slender  piety  that  lays  by  its  wealth  in 
diamonds  and  laces,  elegant  houses,  handsome 
grounds,  broad  acres,  bonds  and  mortgages 
while  the  work  of  the  world's  evangelization  is 
held  back  every-where  for  lack  of  money ;  labor- 
ers waiting  to  be  sent  to  the  whitened  fields, 
those  already  at  work  recalled,  schools  closed]  ' 
and  men  and  women  perishing  in  black  ignorance 
by  the  thousand. 


^mm 


9IO 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


A  few  Christians  give  liberally.  A  smaller 
number  give  methodically.  Before  the  Church 
meets  fully  its  obligation  in  this  regard  every  one 
who  makes  a  public  profession  of  faith  in  Christ 
must  take  upon  himself  a  pledge  to  give  by 
rule,  and  to  the  extent  of  his  ability. 

Nothing  is  well  done  that  is  not  done  by 
system — according  to  law.  This  holds  in  the 
simplest  mechanical  work.  You  can  not  make 
so  much  as  a  proper  hoe  handle  without  bring- 
ing it  into  right  lines  by  the  laws  of  mechanics. 

We  see  this  principle  wrought  out  in  mone- 
tary affairs.  Two  men  start  in  business  at  the 
same  time.  One  has  a  good  capital  and  a  fine 
opening  for  trade.  He  invests  carelessly,  deals 
recklessly,  receives  large  return  for  some  arti- 
cles, loses  heavily  on  others,  and  spends  money 
freely,  because  he  believes  that  his  profits  will 
warrant  generous  living.  He  wakes  up  some 
gloomy  morning  to  find  that  his  gay  crafl  has 
been  steadily  a-leak,  and  his  fine  fortune  is  a 
wreck. 

The  other  starts  with  a  sjnall  capital,  works 
it  carefully,  and  by  rule.  He  knows  each  Sat- 
urday night  his  approximate  assets  and  liabili- 
ties, and  guages  his  outlays  by  the  figures  in  his 
ledger.  After  a  few  patient,  plodding  years  he 
finds  himself  with  a  competence. 


mMmmuim:im 


HliKWHWifMWIiil'HII 


GIVING  BY  RULE. 


%tx 


y.     A  smaller 
;   the   Church 
jard  every  one 
faith  in  Christ 
',e  to  give  by 
ty. 
not  done  by 
holds  in  the 
can  not  make 
without  bking- 
of  mechanics. 
:  out  in  mone- 
tusiness  at  the 
lital  and  a  fine 
arelessly,  deals 
for  some  arti- 
spends  money 
his  profits  will 
akes  up  some 
I  gay  craft  has 
le  fortune  is  a 

capital,  works 
nows  each  Sat- 
sets  and  liabili- 
le  figures  in  his 
tdding  years  he 


This  need  of  living  by  rule  is  manifest,  also, 
in  hygiene.  Suppose  a  child  is  fed  once  an  hour 
or  once  in  twenty-four,  just  as  he  can  clamor 
somebody  into  attention,  how  would  he  thrive? 
Suppose  a  man  exercises  one  day  till  he 
drops  from  exhaustion,  and  lies  motionless  for  a 
week,  sleeps  forty-eight  hours,  and  then  keeps 
awake  till  nature  shuts  his  eyes  by  force,  fasts  a 
week  and  surfeits  a  fortnight,  what  do  you  im- 
agine would  be  his  physical  condition? 

Christianity  has  added  fifteen  years  to  the  aver- 
age of  human  life,  and  probably  in  no  one  hy- 
gienic point  has  it  had  the  advantage  more  cer- 
tainly than  in  its  eating,  sleeping,  and  working 
by  rule.  In  all  these  matters  its  practice  and 
methods  are  directly  opposite  to  those  of  the 
savages. 

Suppose  education  were  carried  on  in  a  des- 
ultory fashion— a  nibble  of  Greek,  a  browse  of 
Latin  or  German  as  the  inclination  might  be, 
mathematics  or  natural  sciences  to  the  taste,  fact 
or  fiction  according  to  preference — what  sort  of 
scholars  would  we  have  with  such  a  curriculum? 
If  I  were  sent  outside  of  the  Church  for  the 
raw  material  out  of  which  a  strong  Christian  was 
to  be  made,  I  should  take  the  one  who  had 
been  trained  to  live  his  physical  and  mental  life 
by  rule.     He  would  have  h»s  strength  well  in 


ai3  DIAMOND  DOST. 

hand,  his  energies  under  rein,  where  they  could 
be  available. 

The  Church  should  have  all  her  force,  talent, 
culture,  money,  general  influence,  where  she 
could  lay  her  hand  upon  them  and  make  the 
very  most  of  each  item ;  and  this  can  never  be 
till  .each  individual  member  learns  to  give  as 
well  as  live  by  rule. 

The  very  etymon  of  the  word  religion  from 
the  Latin  religare,  to  bind  anew,  indicates  the 
system  to  which  its  adherents  are  to  be  held. 

Of  all  people  Methodists  are  most  at  fault  if 
they  fail  to  work  by  rule.  Some  imagine  that 
the  grand  religious  awakening  of  the  eighteenth 
century  was  a  general  riot  of  glorious  irregular- 
ities. They  could  not  be  more  mistaken.  That 
freshet  of  Gospel  truth  that  overflowed  the  mas- 
sive, ivy-draped  walls  of  the  old  Anglican  church, 
and  leaped  John  Calvin's  iron  barriers,  obeyed 
law  as  certainly  as  do  the  planets  in  their  orbits. 
They  who  wrought  most  wondrously  in  that 
mighty  current  were  people  who  most  positively 
slept  and  rose,  talked  and  prayed,  preached  and 
wrote,  lived  and  gave  by  rule. 

Look  at  Wesley's  prodigious  methods.  We 
think  it  wonderful  for  a  machinist  to  hold  an 
entire  manufactory  in  his  head— every  wheel  re- 
volving,  every  hammer  beating,  every  ounc?  of 


■awwiw 


GIVING  BY  RULE. 


*n 


e  they  could 

force,  talent, 
,  where  she 
id  make  the 
can  never  be 
5  to  give   as 

religion  from 
indicates  the 
3  be  held, 
ost  at  fault  if 
imagine  that 
lie  eighteenth 
ous  irregular- 
itaken.     That 
>wed  the  mas- 
glican  church, 
rriers,  obeyed 
n  their  orbits, 
ously   in   that 
lost  positively 
preached  and 

nethods.  We 
St  to  hold  an 
very  wheel  re- 
very  ouncf  of 


power  weighed  and  adjusted  in  his  tough,  tire- 
less brain.  In  Wesley's  thought  was  the  com- 
plex mechanism  of  bands,  classes,  societies,  con- 
ferences, a  membership  of  all  castes,  from 
Kingswood  to  the  court;  a  ministry  of  all  orders, 
lay,  clerical,  and  episcopal.  Think  you  his  Her- 
culean labors  could  have  been  wrought  without 
the  closest  system? 

We  have  a  record  of  his  beneficence.     When 
his  income  was  thirty  pounds  a  year  he  lived  on 
twenty-eight,  and  gave  two.     When  it  was  sixty, 
he  lived  on  twenty-eight  and  gave  thirty-two. 
When  it  amounted  to  a  hundred  and  twenty,  he 
kept  himself  to  the  frugal  twenty-eight  and  gave 
ninety-two.     It  is  estimated  that,  from  the  pro- 
ceeds of  his  publications  and  other  sources  of 
income,  he  gave  in  all  over  one  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  dollars.     His  last  entry  in  his  be- 
nevolence account  reads  thus:  "For  upwards  of 
eighty-six  years  I  have  kept  my  accounts  ex- 
actly.    I  will  not  attempt  it  any  longer,  being 
satisfied  with   the   continual   conviction   that   I 
save  all  I  can,  and  give  all  I  can,  that  is,  all 
I  have." 

God's  idea  of  a  ritual  was  given  in  minutia 
to  the  Jews.  Their  one  temple  was  built  under 
his  direction,  and  it  was  a  marvel  of  beauty  from 
base  to  cap-stone.     Its  service  was  most  expen- 


HMMMa 


„4  DIAMOND  DUST. 

sive.  In  the  very  outset  one  twelfth  of  the  peo- 
ple were  set  apart  for  teachers  and  priests.  The 
other  eleven-twelfths  were  to  support  them,  re- 
lieving them  from  the  necessity  of  laboring  for 
their  daily  bread.  It  was  distinctly  specified 
that  every  Jew  should  give  one-fifth  of  his  in- 
come to  the  service  of  education  and  religion. 

We  believe  every  Christian  ought  to  give  at 
least  onetenth  of  his  income  to  the  work  of 
God ;  one-half  as  much  as  the  benevolence  of 
the  old  dispensation. 

This   plan   of   giving  a  tenth  to  the  Lord 
would  be  economical.     Nine-tenths  of  our  finan- 
cial troubles  grow  out  of  a  slipshod  keeping  of 
accounts.     The  large  percentage  of  business  ven- 
tures that  result  in  failure  is  probably  owing  to 
the  fact  that  many  go  a  little  beyond  their  abil- 
ity, hoping  that  by  some  turn  in  the  wheel  they 
can  meet  their  obligations  and  come  through 
safe.     A  financial   gale   strikes   the   sea.    The 
waves  dash  higher  than  they  expected  and  the 
-  outcome  is  wreck  and  loss.     If  they  had  kept 
their  accounts  so  that  they  could  know  at  any 
hour  just  the  condition   of  their  finance,  they 
could  have  prepared  for  the  storm  in  time. 

These  careless  business  people  never  can  tell 
exactly  how  they  stand.  They  never  know  the 
precise  appreciation  or  depreciation,  of  a  piece  of 


•yii 


MM 


w 


GIVING  BY  RULE. 


"5 


ti  of  the  peo- 
priests.  The 
ort  them,  re- 
laboring  for 
:tly  specified 
fth  of  his  in- 
»d  religion, 
ht  to  give  at 
the  work  of 
inevolence  of 

to  the  Lord 
of  our  finan- 
d  keeping  of 
'  business  ven- 
ibly  owing  to 
)nd  their  abil- 
he  wheel  they 
:ome  through 
he    sea.     The 
ected  and  the 
they  had  kept 
know  at  any 
finance,  they 
in  time, 
never  can  tell 
sver  know  the 
\q{  a  piece  of 


their  property.  They  hope  it  is  about  so  much, 
and  they  are  apt  to  look  at  their  belongings  as 
people  do  when  they  eat  cherries  with  magnify- 
ing glasses  on  so  as  to  make  them  seem  large. 
Facts  are  relentless,  however,  and  the  bank- 
ruptcy that  might  have  been  spared  if  a  plain, 
simple,  sure  reckoning  had  been  taken,  comes  on 
apace.  Women  are  accused  of  ruining  their  hus- 
bands by  their  extravagance,  when,  as  the  case 
often  stands,  it  was  the  man's  careless  method 
with  his  accounts,  making  himself  and  his  wife 
think  themselves  worth  much  more  than  they 
really  were,  that  did  the  mischief. 

If  one  promises  God  one-tenth  of  his  income 
he  can  not  be  honest  unless  he  knows  all  his  re- 
ceipts and  expenditures  that  he  may  get  at  the 
exact  amount  due  his  benevolence  account. 

One  ought  in  self-defense  to  give  at  least  one- 
tenth  of  Lis  income.  Covetousness  is  a  cardinal 
sin.  One-twelfth  of  Christ's  body-guard  fell 
through  covetousness.  Christ  was  so  poor  he 
had  not  where  to  lay  his  head.  The  expenses 
of  his  itinerant  tours  were  paid  by  women  who 
risked  all  to  follow  him.  He  bad  to  work  a  mir- 
acle to  get  a  piece  of  coin  for  tribute  money. 
Certainly  the  disciple  of  such  a  poverty-stricken  ' 
teacher  was  in  far  less  danger  from  love  of  gain 
than  we  who  have  houses  and  lands,  stocks  and 


tmmmim 


HHH 


■MM 


9l6 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


bonds.     It  behooves  us  to  walk  carefully  where 
an  apostle  fell. 

Very  few  escape  an  attack  of  covetousness. 
Many  who  are  liberal  while  they  are  poor,  dis- 
cover a  tliirst  for  gain  as  soon  as  they  begin  to 
acquire.  In  cholera  times  we  use  disinfectants. 
Systematic  giving  is  God's  guarantee  against  the 
miasmatic  taint  of  avarice.  Others  as  good  as  we 
have  grown  avaricious.  Ten  chances  to  one  we 
will  fall  into  the  same  snare  unless  we  take  spe- 
cial means  for  its  prevention. 

Those  who  have  done  the  most  for  God's 
work  have  been  among  the  roost  self-denying 
and  systematic  givers.  Mary  Fletcher,  though 
a  woman  of  fine  tastes  and  culture,  lived  upon 
twenty-five  dollars  a  year  and  gave  the  rest  of 

her  income. 

Selina,  Countess  of  Huntingdon,  gave  up  her 
liveried  servants  and  expensive  equipages,  selling 
even  her  jewels,  and  living  in  the  simplest  style 
that  she  might  have  the  means  to  buy  and  build 
chapels  for  the  poor,  and  to  turn  theaters  into 
places  of  worship. 

Dr.  Coke  gave  to  God's  work  two  fortunes. 
Near  the  close  of  his  life  he  arose  in  the  British 
Conference  and  asked  for  the  establishment  of  a 
mission  in  India.  He  was  told  there  were  neither 
men  nor  means  for  the  work.     He  replied,   "I 


ii. 


-i 


GIVING  BY  RULE, 


atj 


refuUy  where 

covetousness. 
are  poor,  dis- 
they  begin  to 
disinfectants, 
ee  against  the 
as  good  as  we 
:es  to  one  we 
;  we  take  spe- 

ost  for  God's 
it  self-denying 
itcher,  though 
•e,  lived  upon 
/c  the  rest  of 

1,  gave  up  her 
lipages,  selling 
simplest  style 
buy  and  build 
I  theaters  into 

two  fortunes. 

in  the  British 
blishment  of  a 
re  wwe  neither 
le  replied,   "I 


have  yet  a  small  estate  of  one  thousand  pounds. 
I  give  that  and  myself  with  it  to  go  to  India. 
If  you  refuse  my  offer  you  will  break  my  heart." 
I  have  read  of  an  English  Methodist  who  looks  for 
divine  direction  in  his  business  and  gives  by  the 
Pauline  rule,  "as  God  prospers  him."    A  jour- 
neyman- mechanic,  he  set  up  a  small  business  on 
borrowed  capital.     Eight  years  after  he  pledged 
to  give  fifty  guineas  a  day  as  his  missionary  sub- 
scription.    Eliza  Garrett,  of  Chicago,  to  whose 
benevolence  many  of  the  Methodist  ministers  of 
the  North-west  are  indebted  for  their  theologies  1 
education,  the  foundress  of  Garrett  Biblical  Insti 
tute,  gave  all  her  property  for  that  work,  reser/- 
ing  for  herself  only  two  hundred  dollars  a  year. 
Giving  by  rule  has  Bible  sanction.     Abraham 
gave  one-tenth,  and  with  God's  blessing  he  be- 
came a  man  of  princely  fortune. 

Jacob  went  out  with  his  staff,  a  poor  man. 
At  Bethel  he  vowed  io  the  Lord,  "Of  all  that 
thou  Shalt  give  me  I  will  surely  give  the  tenth 
unto  thee."  In  twenty  years  he  came  back  rich. 
St.  Paul  enjoins  upon  the  Churches  a  weekly 
benefaction.  "  Upon  the  first  day  of  the  week 
let  every  one  of  you  lay  by  him  in  store  as  God 
hath  prospered  him. " 

In  no  part  of  the  work  did  John  Wesley  show 
more  skill  in  handling  his  forces  than  in  his  class 


mmm 


mm 


kowh 


ai8 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


system.  Each  leader  was  to  have  the  care  of 
about  twelve  persons,  not  only  looking  after  their 
spiritual  needs  as  a"  sub-pastor,  but  receiving 
their  contributions  for  the  support  of  the  Gospel 
and  the  poor.  Every  one  who  joined  the 
Wesleyan  Societies  must  give  each  week  a  due 
proportion  of  his  income  for  the  Lord's  work. 
Wherever  his  plan  was  followed  there  was  plenty 
of  money  for  the  needs  of  the  Church. 

In  these  times  of  financial  pressure  when  so 
many  of  cyr  benevolent  enterprises  are  suffering 
heavy  loss  from  the  lack  of  means  to  push  their 
interests,  it  would  be  well  for  us  to  go  back  to 
first  principles  in  our  finance.     Let  every  child 
who  comes  into  the  Church  as  a  probationer  be 
taught  that  at  least  a  penny  a  week  must  be 
given  for  the  support  of  God's  work.     Let  this 
be  given  regularly  as  an  educator  in  beneficence. 
Let  others  give  according  to  their  means  week 
after  week,  and  the  vexed  questions  of  rented 
pews,  begging  speeches  at  dedications,  agents, 
fairs  and  festivals  would  be  happily  settled  to  the 
infinite  relief  of  many  excellent  people. 

The  Roman  Catholics  are  ready  enough  to 
take  up  these  plans  and  make  them  of  the  ut- 
most avail.  They  have  their  Society  for  Propa- 
gandism,  each  member  of  which  gives  one  cent 
a  week.     One  collects  from  ten  and  forwards  the 


^^BBiMte£^ 


GIVING  BY  RULE. 


■19 


the  care  of 
ig  after  their 
ut  receiving 
r  the  Gospel 

joined   the 

week  a  due 

^ord's  work. 

e  was  plenty 

•ch. 

ure  when  so 
are  suffering 
to  push  their 
>  go  back  to 
t  every  child 
robationer  be 
eek  must  be 
rk.  Let  this 
J  beneficence. 

means  week 
)ns  of  rented 
lions,  agents, 
settled  to  the 
aple. 

dy  enough  to 
em  of  the  ut- 
ety  for  Propa- 
^ves  one  cent 
d  forwards  the 


dimes  to  another  who  sends  the  dollars  to 
another,  each  collector  gathering  and  forwarding 
from  ten  beneath  him,  till  by  the  time  it  reaches 
the  cardinal  at  Lyons  it  amounts  to  hundreds  of 
thousands  for  pushing  forward  the  plans  of  the 
Romish  Church. 

Papists  never  lack  money.  If  a  Protestant 
institution  is  to  be  sold  for  debt,  Catholics  have 
the  money  ready  for  its  purchase,  and  that  money 
is  not  from  the  bount>-  of  the  rich  but  from  the 
littles  given  by  the  poor.  It  is  high  time  for 
Protestants  to  begin  to  u,se  the  same  wisdom  in 
their  financial  plans. 

When  the  Woman's  Foreign  Missionary  Society 
was  organized,  many  thought  it  a  mistake  that  its 
constitution  should  forbid  the  taking  of  general 
collections.  "So  much  interest  in  your  meeting, 
ladies,  such  a  tide  of  enthusiasm,  surely  if  you 
would  pass  the  baskets  you  would  get  hundreds 
of  dollars."  "Perhaps  so,  sir;  but  what  about 
next  year,  when  our  fine  talkers  would  not  be 
here  to  stir  the  people  ?  Better,  far  better  as  we 
believe,  the  plan  of  getting  the  women  of  the 
Church  to  lay  aside,  always  religiously,  the  little 
two  cents  a  week.  The  income  will  be  larger 
and  surer.  And  then  as  an  educator  of  the  peo-' 
pie  this  society  does  more  by  inducing  ten 
women  to  give  a  dollar  a  year,  with  the  thought 


vummmm 


\i 


a\ 


■1 


aao 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


and  prayer  that  usually  accompany  such  gifts, 
than  by  persuading  one  to  give  a  hundred  dollars. " 

A  thousand  pities  that  all  our  benevolences 
might  not  be  wrought  by  this  same  rule;  each 
by  a  method  of  its  own,  but  all  upon  the  prin- 
ciple of  gathering  the  littles  steadily  and  con- 
stantly from  the  many. 

But  one  says:  "I  am  very  poor.  One-tenth 
of  my  income  will  be  quit  i  too  insignificant  to 
offer  to  the  Lord."  Let  ua  »?ot  forget  the  widow 
of  whom  Christ  said,  "She  hath  cast  in  more 
than  they  all." 

Let  us  be  humble  enough  to  give  the  little, 
and,  though  we  can  ill  afford  to  spare  it,  let  us 
trust  as  did  the  Gentile  woman  when  required  to 
take  an  extra  boarder  at  the  risk  of  starving  her- 
self and  her  vHildren.  God  saw  to  it  that  her 
cruse  of  oil  and  barrel  of  meal  did  not  fail. 
"But  I  am  in  debt."  People  have  been  known 
to  keep  up  a  lightning-rod  of  that  sort  to  con- 
duct off  flashing  appeals.  I  believe  that  if  one 
would  use  the  nine-tenths  of  his  income,  giving 
the  other  tenth  to  the  Lord's  work,  he  would 
get  out  of  debt  soonsr  than  if  he  used  upon 
himself  the  whole. 

We  measure  our  benevolence  by  that  of 
others  in  the  Church,  when  the  fact  is,  the 
Church  'does  not  begin  to  give  as  she  ought. 


f 


GIVING  BY  RULE. 


aai 


y  such  gifts, 
ired  dollars." 
benevolences 
le  rule;  each 
)on  the  prin- 
lily  and  con- 

One-tenth 
significant  to 
et  the  widow 
cast  in  more 

ive  the  little, 
tare  it,  let  us 
n  required  to 

starving  her- 
0  it  that  her 
did  not  fail. 

been  known 
:  sort  to  con- 
re  that  if  one 
icome,  giving 
irk,  he  would 
le  used  upon 


If  she  did,  Christian  enterprises  would  not  be 
forever  on  the  pauper  list.  Perhaps  we  arc 
among  the  culpable.  Let  us  face  the  facts  In 
time,  lest  in  the  judgment  the  blood  of  the  per- 
ishing be  found  upon  us,  lest  our  names  be  upon 
the  roll  of  wrath. 

Let  us  remember  that  our  money,  as  an  agent 
of  good,  belongs  to  our  Master.     Let  us  see  to 
it  that  each  dollar  is  spent  under  his  eye      VVe 
may  have  his  "Well   done"  on  each  business 
transaction,  little  and  large.     When  they  who 
have  been  won  to  him  out  of  every  kindred  and 
tribe  and  people  come  up  before  him  with  joy, 
there   may  be  those  whom   even   our  indirect 
efforts  have  helped  on  the  way.     Then  will  his 
word,  sweeter  than  heaven's  most  glorious  sym- 
phonies, sound  through  our  souls.     "Inasmuch 
as  ye  did  it  to  one  of  the  least  of  these  my 
brethren,  ye  did  it  unto  me." 


by  that   of 

fact  is,   the 

IS  she  ought. 


iSMUK 


Hum 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


IN  the  evenin«T  twilight  of  each  life  there  stand 
two  grim,  beckoning  skeletons  —  age  and 
death.  We  may  laugh  and  shout  in  the  merry 
to-day.  We  may  dance  and  sing  as  did  the 
condemned  of  the  Conciergerie  with  the  dead 
carts  and  coffins  clattering  up  to  the  gate,  and 
to-morrow — the  guillotine  I  Yet  we  can  not  shut 
oat  the  ghastly  inevitable.  There  they  stand — 
those  grisly  skeletons,  age  and  death.  We  can 
escape  the  one  only  by  the  early  coming  of  the 
other,  from  whom  our  every  instinct  draws  back. 
Age  is  as  unsightly  and  probable  as  death  is 
fearful  and  sure. 

The  physical  havoc  wrought  by  age  is  most 
unlovely  and  pitiful.  If  only  the  earthly  house 
of  this  tabernacle  could  be  taken  down  in  a 
more  dignified  and  agreeable  manner,  as  prob- 
ably it  was  intended  at  the  outset ! 

See  that  old  pair  sitting  in  the  chimney-cor- 
ner. Once  she  was  bright  and  beautiful;  he 
handsome  and  brave.     Now,  they  are  wrinkled 


m»k 


mmm 


f 


re  there  stand 
\3  —  age  and 
in  the  merry 
r  as  did  the 
th  the  dead 
:he  gate,  and 
:  can  not  shut 
they  stand — 
ith.  We  can 
oming  of  the 
t  draws  back. 
le  as  death  is 

/  age  is  most 
earthly  house 
n  down  in  a 
mer,  as  prob- 

i  chimney-cor- 

beautiful ;    he 

are  wrinkled 


Siiiwai 


GROlVrnG  OLD. 


•0| 


and  bent  and  palsied.     Her  eyes  were  full  of  the 
passion  and  power  of  womanliness;  his  as  keen 
as  an  eagle's  glance.     Now,  the  eyes  of  both 
are   sunken    and    dim,    seeing    only   blurs    and 
blotches  where  once  they  traced  beauty.     Their 
hair,  once  heavy  and  dark,  is  coarse  and  gray, 
and    tucked    under    uncouth    skullcaps.      Their 
teeth  ached  themselves  away  long  since.     Their 
limbs,  that  used  to  trip  so  nimbly  and  dance  so 
gayly,  have  lost  their  sprightliness  and  strength. 
They  can  only  totter  and  cramp  and  suffer  rheu- 
matic torture.     Their  hands  have  forgotten  their 
cunning,  ami  fumble  as  clumsily  as  do  those  of 
a  twelvemonth's  babe.     Their  voices  have  lost 
their  melody  and  power;  the  poor  old  bodies 
whine  out  their  ailments,   and  on  sunny  days 
croon  and  drawl  about  the  dead  past.     Ah  me  I 
Is   this   skeleton    reaching   his   arms  for  every 
one  of  1'  > 

But  idder  far  than  this  physical  decay  is  the 
failure  of  the  mental  powers.  Once  this  man 
and  woman  were  among  the  ilite.  Now,  they 
set  ic  youngsters  a-titter  with  their  old-fashioned 
wl^  ms  and  notions.  ' '  Mother 's  breaking  fast, " 
drawls  the  old  man,  nodding  across  at  his  wife. 
"A  pity,  too!  She  used  to  be  wonderful  smart, 
quite  a  blue  stocking,  as  they  used  to  say  in  my 
early  days.     Ah   well,   we've   had   our   time." 


aCMK 


j224 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


i!t  If 


One  would  care  less  for  the  tumbling  down  of 
the  old  tent,  if  the  royal  mind  could  stand  un- 
harmed in  the  wreck.     The  stout  strokes  of  the 
good  right  arm,  the  deftness  of  the  fingers,  the 
strength  and  glory  of  the  prime,  could  be  given 
up,  if  the  thought  could  yet  be  sent  forth  among 
men,  a  felt  force.     But  to  have  book  and  pen 
fall  from  the  palsied  hand,  and  all  the  new  de- 
velopments of  science  and  literature  drift  by  un- 
noted, till  one  is  as  little  en  rapport  with  contem- 
porary men  and  events  as  would  be  a  resurrected 
Roundhead,  thought  and  fancy  cramped  down  to 
a  litde  round  of  insignificant  things,  while  the 
grand  unfoldings  of  the  age  are  as  little  compre- 
hended as  are  the  diplomacies  of  Thibet — who 
can   contemplate   such    probabilities   without   a 
temptation  to  suicide? 

Our  old  people  in  the  corner  remember  when 
the  business  of  the  house  and  the  estate  were 
ai!  wrought  out  in  their  brain.  Now,  their  opin- 
ions are  of  little  more  weight  than  the  guesses 
of  the  nimble-tongued  ten-years-old.  "Times 
are  changed,  father;  they  don't  do  things  that 
way  nowadays."  "Why,  mother,  you  are  too 
old-fashioned  for  any  thing. " 

Once  that  man's  ipse  dixit  was  authoritative 
in  town  affairs.  Now,  he  urges  a  question  that 
seems   to   him  vital.     Answer:   "Why,   father. 


GROWING  OLD. 


925 


ig  down  of 
d  stand  un- 
•okes  of  the 
fingers,  the 
Id  be  given 
forth  among 
ok  and  pen 
the  new  de- 
drift  by  un- 
vith  contem- 
1  resurrected 
ped  down  to 
s,  while  the 
ittle  compre- 
rhibet — who 
>   without   a 

lember  when 
estate  were 
AT,  their  opin- 
1  the  guesses 
>ld.  ' '  Times 
5  things  that 
you  are  too 

authoritative 
question  that 
Why,   father, 


that  was  settled  years  and  years  ago.  Don't 
know  as  you  can  understand  it,  but  it  "s  all  right. 
We  got  through  with  that  the  Winter  before  Ben- 
nie  died.  Don't  you  remember?"  Yes,  there 
are  marble  mile-stones  that  gleam,  white  and  cold, 
like  ghosts,  along  the  misty,  backward  way;  he 
can  not  lose  sight  of  them;  but  all  the  rest 
seems  like  a  fog-enshrouded  sea. 

Once  his  incisive  thinking  cut  dow..  through 
questions  that  concerned  state  interests;  and  his 
voice  told  on  the  destinies  of  the  people.  Now, 
he  is  cast  aside,  a  child  without  the  future  of 
childhood,  lacking  all  its  sweetness  and  promise. 
With  his  worn-out  body  and  effete  mind,  he  is 
waiting  in  helplessness  for  the  rickety,  creaking 
machinery  to  stand  still,  and  free  him  and  his 
friends  from  the  burden  of  his  being. 

And  yet  the  picture  has  darker,  sadder  shades. 
Those  people  were  once  co-workers  with  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Not  only  did  they  help 
nobly  in  reformatory  movements,  but  they  led 
many  and  many  a  soul  to  the  Savior.  Now, 
their  religious  life  is  as  completely  enfeebled  as 
tlieir  mental  vigor. 

Their  voices   used   to   liave   weight   in   the 
councils  of  the  Church.     The  pastor  leaned  upon  ' 
them  for  sympathy  and  advice.    Now,  the  Church 
moves  on  just  as  it  would  if  they  were  in  the 

'S 


IBKtftfai 


wWllHltoi" 


aa6 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


li 


grave.     It  works,  legislates,  extends,  and  they 
are  unable  even  to  comprehend  its  growth— in 
danger  of  reading  it  all  backward.     Well   for 
them  if  they  are  not  left  to  croak  about  the  de- 
generacy of  modern  Christians.     They  can  not 
pray  and  praise  as  they  used  to  do.     Things 
must  have  gone  wrong  some  way.     People  have 
got  out  of  the  old  paths.     "When   we  were 
young  you   could   tell  a  Christian  woman   by 
her  bonnet  as  far  as  you  could  see  her,  and  it 
would  have  done  your  heart  good  to  hear  how 
long  and  eloquent-like  the  men  could  hold  forth 
in  a  meeting.     But  there  were  Christians  in  the 
Church  in  our  young  days." 

Oh,  the  pity  of  it!  To  grow  old!  How 
many  times,  if  we  had  dared,  would  we  have 
prayed  to  die  even  before  reaching  "tiie  half- 
way house"  rather  than  come  down  to  this 
whining,  driveling,  pushed-aside  old  life! 

Is  physical,  mental,  and  moral  decay  inevit- 
.able ?    Is  there  no  fountain  of  youth  whose  waters 
can  give  us  immortal  vigor? 

Much  of  the  decay  of  old  age  is  the  result 
of  neglect,  and,  therefore,  it  may  be  avoided. 
In  attempting  to  demonstrate  this,  perhaps,  as 
in  some  people's  theology,  the  wish  is  the  parent 
of  the  argument,  and  the  logic  is  not  more  robust 
than  a  wish,  yet,  as  we  all  need  comfort  on  this 


nds,  and  they 
ts  growth — in 
rd.  Well  for 
about  the  de- 
They  can  not 
)  do.  Things 
People  have 
'hen  we  were 
in  woman  by 
ee  her,  and  it 
i  to  hear  how 
)uld  hold  forth 
iristians  in  the 

)w  old!  How 
irould  we  have 
ling  "the  half- 
down  to  this 
)ld  lifel 

i\  decay  inevit- 
th  whose  waters 

ge  is  the  result 
ay  be  avoided, 
his,  perhaps,  as 
sh  is  the  parent 
not  more  robust 
comfort  on  this 


GROWING  OLD. 


337 


score,  it  may  be  worth  while  to  make  the  effort 
to  prove  the  proposition. 

Lawlessness  and  laziness  are  the  two  prime 
enemies  of  human  strength  and  endurance. 

Unreasoning  creatures  live  by  law.     The  law 
of  their  life,  though  originally  as  benign  as  divine 
love  could  devise,  has  been  infracted  by   man's 
sra,  and  carries  the  curse-mark  of  his  transgres- 
sion.    Therefore  they  die.     Their  life  moves  in 
a  circle.     They  come  into  existence,  grow,  ma- 
ture, decline,  and  are  crowded  out  of  being  by 
the  pressure  of  onnroming   successions.     Except 
where  the  penalty  of  the  curse  comes  in  with  fe- 
rocity and  violence,  these  changes  of  the  mode 
of  being  are,  as  far  as  we  know,  gentle,  painless, 
and  not  unsightly.     Who  ever  heard  of  a  super- 
annuated buffalo,  or  a  chimney  corner  robin  ? 

The  ability  to  apprehend  and  obey  law  is  the 
kingliness  of  humanity.     It  is  the  base  of  re 
sponsible  action.     It  is  that  which  recommended 
us  to  the  redemptive  notice  of  the  Son  of  God. 
With  our  consent  he  will  ultimately  lift  from  us 
the  curse.     Even  now  he  will  help  us  mitigate 
the  effects  of  that  curse,  but  it  must  be  accord- 
ing to  law.     Our  perverse  disposition  to  resist, 
and  break  law  is  at  the  bottom  of  much  of  the 
misery  that  comes  upon  us  when  we  grow  old. 
The  taint  of  lawlessness  is  in  our  blood.     It 


F 


aaS 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


comes  to  us  straight  from  the  forfeited  paradise. 
It  shows  itself  very   early.     Children   hate  re- 
straint.    Tell  one  of  those  "  toddlin'  wee  things  " 
not  to  touch  a.  certain  article,  and  he  will  not  rest 
till  his  tiny  fingers  have  pushed  their  way  through 
your  prohibition.     The  limitation  suggests  and 
stimulates  the  very  mischief  you  would  have  him 
avoid.      "What  made   you  tell  us  not  to  put 
beans  up  our  noses?"  whined  a  little  fellow,  when 
his  mother  appeared   on   the   scene   of  misde- 
meanor and   suffering.      "We    wouldn't   have ' 
thought  of  it  if  you  hadn't  'a '  told  us  not, to." 
In  our  childhood  we  could  hop  and  skip  all 
day,  taking  ten  thousand  useless  steps,  but  it  had 
to  be  at  our  own  sweet  will.     If  we  were  set  at 
something  that  we  felt  obliged  to  do,  our  strength 
gave  out  immediately.     You  can  "  break  "  a  colt 
in  a  month,  but  it  takes  ten  years  to  break  a  boy 
to  steady,  reliable,  working  ways. 

In  mental  effort  also.  Children's  minds  are 
uncomfortably  busy,  prying  into  every  thing  ex- 
cept their  grammar  and  arithmetic.  Pictures 
and  prizes  must  be  held  before  them  perpetually, 
penalties  and  disgrace  shaken  over  their  heads, 
to  coax  or  drive  them  into  the  habit  of  doing  a 
required  amount  of  work  in  a  given  time. 

Many  students  make  it  the  mam  tasl<  of  their 
school  life  to  resist,  and  wheedle,  and  outwit  the 


riiiiiiiiiiiiWiiniiTTiiiiii 


i 


GROWING  OLD. 


329 


ted  paradise, 
lien  hate  re- 
'  wee  things  " 
;  will  not  rest 
way  through 
suggests  and 
>uld  have  him 
s  not  to  put 
:  fellow,  when 
ne    of  misde- 
ould  n't   have  ' 
Id  us  not, to." 
)  and  skip  all 
eps,  but  it  had 
ire  were  set  at 
>,  our  strength 
break  "  a  colt 
:o  break  a  boy 

:n's  minds  are 
;very  thing  ex- 
;tic.  Pictures 
m  perpetually, 
;r  their  heads, 
bit  of  doing  a 
en  time, 
in  tasl<  of  their 
and  outwit  the 


teacher.  He  is  their  natural  enemy.  A  harm- 
less person,  possibly,  probably  an  amiable  gen- 
tleman when  they  meet  him  in  society,  yet  he 
represents  the  restraint  of  law,  and,  as  such, 
must  be  beaten  out  of  his  puroose. 

When  they  get  the  condi>  i  of  their  life  into 
their  own  hands,  it  is  not  unusual  for  them  to 
throw  the  rein  upon  the  neck  of  the  lawless  im- 
pulse. They  do  not  venture  to  raise  their  hand 
against  their  neighbor's  life  for  fear  of  the  law  of 
the  land,  and  of  the  divine  law  that  has  been  the 
one  tireless  schoolmaster  that  would  not  be  shaken 
off;  but  may  they  not  do  as  they  will  in  regard 
to  their  own  personal  life?  Their  lawlessness 
relieves  them  of  mental  discipline,  and  they  do 
no  more  brain  work  than  they  are  driven  to 
perform  by  necessity,  or  it  permits  them  to  in- 
dulge as  they  will  their  appetites,  passions,  an*- 
bitions.  They  destroy  their  digestion  by  crowd- 
ing their  stomachs  to  overwork  ujpon  fiery, 
greasy  masses,  villainous  compounds  that  tickle 
a  depraved  palate,  and  that  fill  the  blood  with 
scrofula  and  fevers.  They  burn  out  their 
nerves  and  brain  with  the  fumes  of  tobacco  and 
alcohol. 

If  all  this  takes  place  among  men  who  belong  ' 
to  Churches  and  claim  to  be  governed  by  the  Ten 
Commandments,  what  havoc  of  the  life  is  made 


fT*" 


1 


fljo 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


by  those  who  have  thrown  off  the  restraints  of 
the  more  special  and  personal  of  those  injunc- 
tions! 

Let  us  take  an  example  of  the  habit  of  neg- 
lecting and  one  of  observing  physical  and  men- 
tal law — Byron  and  Bryant.  The  meteoric  Byron 
indulged  the  worst  passions.  Bryant  held  him- 
self to  the  simplest  appetites  and  the  purest  per- 
sonal life.  Dissoluteness  burned  out  the  fuel 
meant  to  keep  Byron's  brilliant  brain  in  force  for 
years  of  glowing  thought.  Bryant  lived  by  law, 
as  do  the  beautiful,  natural  things  about  which 
he  wrote  so  delightfully.  He  took  ample  sleep, 
and  was  up  with  the  birds  in  the  morning.  His 
bill  of  fare  was  almost  as  simple  as  theirs — 
he  breakfasted  usually  on  oatmeal  mush  and 
milk.  Byron  was  in  the  "  sere  and  yellow  leaf" 
when  he  was  only  a  little  over  thirty.  Bryant's 
age  more  than  outmeasured  two  such  rocket- 
flashes  as  Byron's  erratic  years.  Seventy  found 
him  but  little  less  agile  in  walking,  climbing, 
leaping,  indeifed  as  young  as  at  forty,  except  the 
few  outer  frost  touches.  Like  Moses,  he  macched 
to  his  death  with  strength  unabated. 

The  di^usting  taint  of  physical  and  mental 
lawlessness  and  consequent  decay  renders  odious 
and  dangerous  Byron's  magnificent  imagery. 
Bryant's    poetry   is    as    sweet    and    fresh    and 


^ 


restraints  of 
those  injunc- 

habit  of  neg- 
ical  and  men- 
ctecric  Byron 
mt  held  him- 
lie  purest  per- 
out  the  fuel 
in  in  force  for 
lived  by  law, 
I  about  which 

ample  sleep, 
lorning.  His 
e  as  theirs — 
al  mush  and 
1  yellow  leaf" 
rty.     Bryant's 

such  rocket- 
jeventy  found 
ng,  climbing, 
y,  except  the 
:s,  he  macched 
d. 

al  and  mental 
renders  odious 
:ent  imagery, 
(id    fresh    and 


GHOIVING  OLD. 


aji 


healthful  as  the  breath  of  balm,  and  as  restful  as 
a  mother's  evening  hymn. 

Who  would  have  his  life  like  Byron's,  flash- 
ing up  luridly,  and  settling  into  murky  night  un- 
der the  gloom  of  the  disapproval  of  a  more  ear- 
nest time?  How  much  better  that  it  be  like 
Bryant's,  a  strong,  sure,  steady  light,  ending  like 
an  Autumn  day  in  calm  glory,  its  rays  slanting 
back  over  rich  fruitage,  and  striking  forward  to 
a  glorious  dawn  in  the  Morning  Land ! 

Americans  are  in  special  danger  of  physical 
and  mental  degeneracy  from  fast  living  and  over- 
work. Holmes  says:  "The  human  body  is  a 
furnace  which  keeps  in  blast  threescore  years  and 
ten,  more  or  less.  It  burns  about  three  hun- 
dred pounds  of  carbon  a  year,  besides  other  fuel, 
when  in  fair  working  order."  We  Americans  are 
apt,  as  he  says  of  pugilists,  "to  keep  the  vital 
fires  burning  with  the  blower  up, " 

Strong,  mixed  blood  bubbles  in  our  veins, 
some  of  it  the  best  of  the  Old  Worid's  life,  driven 
hither  because  dangerous  under  rotten  tyrannies. 
Below  us  heave  the  crowding  masses.  Before  us 
stretch  measureless  possibilities.  -Forces  pusK. 
Ambitions  beckon,  and  on  we  go,  with  white 
lines  about  our  mouths,  and  black  furrows  be-- 
tween  our  brows.  We  overwork  and  overdrive, 
and  like  the  wicked,  we  do  not  live  out  half  our 


M  iimuMwtm^'* 


m 


333 


DFAMOND  DUST. 


days.  We  tire  out  and  drop  off  to  sleep  under 
the  sod  coverlet  before  we  have  fairly  reached 
our  best  working  strength. 

Albeit  we  would  not  exchange  our  civiliza- 
tion for  that  of  the  Norsemen,  whose  thick  blood 
creeps  through  leathern  veins,  whose  heavy  jaws 
crunch  the  oaten  cake,  while  their  neutral-tinted 
faces  are  lighted  dully  with  bovine  comfort. 
No ;  they  of  the  coming  better  time  will  feel  to 
the  full  the  propelling  energy  of  this  New  World 
life ;  but  they  will  live  so  by  law,  Uiat  they  will 
not  sin  mortally  against  their  physical  being,  and 
stretch  themselves  upon  a  bier  just  when  they 
ought  to  be  in  the  prime  of  vigor,  their  mental 
products  inane  sensualisms,  when  they  ought  to 
be  full  of  power  for  the  right. 

The  mind  and  spirit  are  princes.  The  body 
is  a  castle  in  which  they  stay  threescore  years  or 
so.  Their  condition  is  often  vitally  affected  by 
the  good  or  ill  repair  of  their  habitation.  In 
the  earlier  time  the  magnificence  of  the  man- 
sion eclipsed  the  dignity  of  the  indwelling  mag- 
nates. So  now,  often  the  greater  care  is  given 
to  olishing  and  strengthening  the  outer  being. 
But  the  age  of  brawn  is  passing  away,  and  the 
best  thought  is  busy  in  bettering  the  spirit  life. 
As  usual,  there  is  danger  of  swinging  to  the  op- 
posite extreme.     Many  good  people  underrate 


CROWING  OLD. 


•» 


sleep  under 
lirly  reached 

our  civiliza- 
;  thick  blood 
!  heavy  jaws 
leutral-tinted 
ne  comfort. 
!  will  feel  to 
s  New  World 
lat  they  will 
il  being,  and 
t  when  they 
their  mental 
ley  ought  to 

.  The  body 
:ore  years  or 
r  affected  by 
bitation.  In 
of  the  man- 
welling  mag- 
care  is  given 
outer  being, 
ivay,  and  the 
he  spirit  life, 
fig  to  the  op- 
>le  underrate 


the  influence  of  body  upon  soul,  and  serious 
harm  comes  of  the  blunder. 

Bodies  have  rights  that  souls  are  bound  to 
respect.  They  have  ways  of  their  own  that  are 
specially  potent  to  avenge  any  infringement  of 
right.  If  only  a  little  finger  is  wronged,  there 
may  be  an  insurrection  of  pain  that  will  set  the 
whole  system  in  a  tumult,  and  throw  even  the 
kingly  brain  out  of  balance. 

The  years  become  relentless  Eumenides  to 
those  who  are  reckless  of  physical  law,  stretch- 
ing them  upon  the  rack  of  acute  suffering  or  the 
gridiron  of  slow  torture.  Witness  the  miser- 
able old  age  of  the  dyspeptic  and  debauchee. 

Many  push  their  laudable  purpose  to  secure 
a  competency  to  such  an  excess  that  they  de- 
stroy their  ability  to  enjoy  what  they  acquire. 

The  farmer  thinks  to  wrest  riches  from  the 
stingy  soil  by  his  own  good  right  arm.  He 
braves  storm  and  weariness,  he  drives  <>n  through 
heat  and  cold,  and  finds  himself  at  fifty  a  bent, 
stiffened,  old  man,  with  a  cramped  brain,  a  hun- 
gry soul,  and,  after  all,  only  a  few  restless,  un- 
satisfactory dollars. 

The  mechanic  plays  the  same  part  with  a 
slight  change  of  scener>'.     The   business   man"^ 
neglects  all  powers  of  body  and  mind  except 
those  that  are  necessary  to  the  driving  of  a  good 


SB 


ii 


»34 


DIAMOND  DVST. 


bargain.  When  he  grows  old,  whether  he 
"fails"  or  "retires,"  he  finds  himself  worn  out 
and  empty  hearted,  his  faculty  for  love  and  wor- 
ship dead  almost  beyond  hope  of  resurrection. 

The  old  Greeks  took  the  very  best  care  of 
their  bodies.  We  see  this  illustrated  in  the 
Olympic  games;  the  victor  in  running  or  wrest- 
ling ws*;  loaded  with  honor.  When  he  returned 
to  his  city  he  was  not  permitted  to  enter  through 
the  gates,  but  a  breach  was  made  in  the  wall  near 
his  house,  as  if  they  would  say,  "The  city  that 
has  such  sons  to  guard  her  has  no  need  of 
walls."  The  result  was  the  finest  physical  cul- 
ture, and  consequent  endurance.  With  them  the 
age  for  military  ser\'ice  was,  from  twenty  to  sixty, 
and  not,  as  with  us,  reaching  only  to  forty-five. 

We  are  as  certainly  culpable  if  we  neglect  to 
take  care  of  our  bodies  as  we  are  if  we  injure 
them  by  our  excesses. 

Many  serve  their  bodies  as  rented  houses  are 
used.  The  roof  leaks,  the  plaster  begins  to  fall, 
the  weather  draws  out  the  nails,  and  the  clap- 
boards spring  off.  No  matter.  We  will  not  have 
to  stay  here  long.  Yes;  but  we  had  better  be 
comfortable  while  we  do  stay,  and  not  lose  time 
and  strength  taking  care  of  our  coughs  and 
rheumatisms. 

Science,  like  religion,  is  growing  wise  and 


ii 


^mmm 


GROWING  OLD. 


•35 


whether   he 
If  worn  out 
ve  and  wor- 
esurrection. 
•est  care  of 
tted   in   the 
ng  or  wreat- 
he returned 
Iter  through 
he  wall  near 
he  city  that 
no  need  of 
physical  cul- 
ith  them  the 
nty  to  sixty, 
to  forty-five, 
ire  neglect  to 
if  we  injure 

d  houses  are 
egins  to  fall, 
nd  the  clap- 
will  not  have 
ad  better  be 
not  lose  time 
coughs  and 

ng  wise  and 


practical.  Instead  of  hiding  away  in  midnight 
cells,  straining  every  nerve  to  discover  the  un- 
discoverable,  it  has  come  into  our  homes  and 
our  schools,  and  is  teaching  us  how  to  take 
care  of  our  hair  and  teeth,  our  eyesight  and 
digestion. 

Hygiene  miracles  are  wrought  nowadays. 
Take  dentistry,  for  instance.  Years  ago  if  the 
nerve  of  a  tooth  was  injured,  it  was  treated  as 
some  deal  with  refractory  children.  There  was 
no  inquiring  into  the  cause  of  the  trouble,  no  at- 
tempt at  palliation  or  compromise.  There  was 
nothing  for  it,  if  it  continued  rebellious,  after  a 
few  conciliatory  pats  and  strokes,  but  to  be  ex- 
terminated, root  and  branch,  though  its  loss  could 
never  be  supplied. 

Can  we  ever  forget  how,  in  our  young  days, 
the  weeks  and  months  were  one  protracted  de- 
spair from  toothache  torture?  Wedged  in  be- 
tween the  alternatives  of  the  dentist's  horrid 
steel  and  the  prolonged  agony  of  having  those 
throbbing  molars  and  incisors  wear  themselves 
out,  one  could  almost  have  risked  a  Rip  Van 
Winkle  sleep,  if  he  were  sure  of  awaking  tooth- 
less. We  have  learned  of  late,  however,  that  a 
little  daily  care  of  the  teeth  and  an  early  appli-- 
cation  of  the  dentist's  skill  will  keep  them  in 
good  condition  for  an  indefinite  period. 


ajft 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


I  :,  i! 


"Oh,  but  it  is  too  much  trouble.  I  have  not 
time  to  bother  with  my  teeth  more  than  is  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  cleanliness."  Ah,  that  is  a 
mischievous  and  expensive  carelessness  that  you 
can  ill-aflTord.  You  may  save  a  few  minutes  by 
your  neglect  of  the  simple  preventive,  and,  by 
and  by,  you  may  spend  months  upon  the  hot 
spit  of  agony,  lose  any  amount  of  nervous  vigor, 
and  pay  a  good  round  bill  for  repairs. 

A  few  years  ago  the  papers  told  us  how 
John  Quincy  Adams  restored  his  eyesight  by  a 
little  daily  pressure  upon  his  eyeballs.  The  old 
people  looked  at  one  another  over  their  glasses 
and  exclaimed,  "Wonderful !  How  nice  it  would 
be  to  see  once  more  without  spectacles  I"  But 
I  know  of  only  one  old  lady  who  tried  it  perse- 
veringly  enough  to  restore  her  sight. 

J.  G.  Holland  tells  us  of  an  old  gentleman,  Dr. 
Scott,  of  Buffalo,  who,  when  his  eyesight  began 
to  fail,  set  himself  about  what  he  termed  "ocu- 
lar gymnastics."    With  proper  intervals  of  rest, 
he  exercised  his  eyes  in  making  minute  letters. 
At  length  he  became  able  to  read  the  newspa- 
pers without  glasses;  "and,  at  the  age  of  seventy- 
one,  he  wrote  upon  an  enameled  card  with  » 
style  on  a  space  exactly  equal  to  that  of  one' 
side  of  a  three-cent  piece,  the  Lord's  Prayer,  the  . 
Apostles*  Creed,  the  parable  of  the  Ten  Virgins, 


"•^^ 


HiPM 


I  have  not 
han  is  abso« 
h,  that  is  a 
:ss  that  you 
minutes  by 
ve,  and,  by 
lon  the  hot 
rvous  vigor, 
I. 

aid  us  how 
^esight  by  a 
s.  The  old 
their  glasses 
lice  it  would 
iclesi"  But 
led  it  perse- 

itleman,  Dr. 
•sight  began 
rmcd  "ocu- 
/als  of  rest, 
nute  letters, 
the  newspa- 
e  of  seventy- 
card  wilh  » 
that  of  one 
I  Prayer,  the 
Ten  Virgins, 


GROWING  OLD. 


•S? 


he  parable  of  the  Rich  Man  and  Lazarus,  the 
Beatitudes,  the  fifteenth  Psalm,  the  one  hundred 
and    twentieth    Psalm,    the    one    himdred    and 
thirty-third  Psalm,  the  one  hundred  and   tliirty- 
first  Psalm,  and  the  figures  i860.     Plvery  letter 
and  every  punctuation  mark  was  written  exqui.s- 
itely,"  "showing,"  as  Dr.  Holmes  says  of  him, 
"that  his  eyes  must  be  a  pair  of  microscopes." 
Much  of  the  decay  of  old  age  comes  from  in- 
activity.    Sometimes  when  a  man  finds  that  he 
has  a  competence,  his  ambition  begins  to  lag, 
and  he  turns  his  business  over  to  his  sons.     The 
relaxation  of  effort  would  have  been  disastrous 
at   twenty-five— it   is   fatal   at   sixty.      Unusual 
powers  can  not  fail  to  lose  their  vigor. 

The  "childishness"  of  age  is  not  inevitable; 
it  may  be  prevented  by  mental  hygiene.  There 
is  a  close  analogy  between  the  laws  of  matter 
and  those  that  govern  mind.  Neglect  means 
decay.  Inaction  is  paralysis.  We  have  seen 
pictures  of  East  Indian  fakirs  who  had  moved 
only  one  arm  for  a  dozen  years  or  more.  That 
arm  retained  its  strength,  while  the  other  limbs 
were  no  more  under  volitive  control  than  if  they 
had  been  made  of  wood.  Most  people  treat  the 
intellect  in  a  similar  fashion.  They  choose  a  bus- 
iness or  profession,  and  throw  all  their  mental 
force  into  the  one  faculty  that  is  necessary  to  its 


ajS  DIAMOND  DUST. 

successful  management.  The  other  faculties  lie 
inactive  till  they  become  as  useless  as  the  limbs  of 
the  fakir.  After  a  few  years  the  need  of  using  that 
one  faculty  ceases  to  crowd  to  activity.  Then  it 
falls  into  disuse  and  paralysis  with  the  rest.  The 
verdict  is,  "The  old  man  has  lost  his  mind."  As 
Lowell  says  of  a  man  minus  his  manhood,  "A 
corpse  crawls  round  unburied." 

An  accident  or  severe  illness  may  injure  the 
physical  or  mental  constitution,  and  break  up  the 
ordinary  or  normal  action  of  one's  powers,  yet 
usually  we  may  work  and  be  strong  as  long  as 
we  will. 

Henceforth  let  us  never  say,  "my  memory 
is  failing."  Let  us  speak  the  plain  truth:  "Be- 
cause I  am  no^  driven  to  use  my  memory  as  in 
my  schooldays  I  am  neglecting  it,  and  it  is  grow- 
ing weak  in  consequence."  A  simple  mnemonic 
exercise,  the  committing  to  memory  of  one  text 
of  Scripture  a  day,  and  the  obliging  of  the  mind 
to  go  over  the  whole  of  the  chapter  or  book  upon 
occasion  will  hold  this  faculty  in  vigor.  If  the 
memorizing  of  three  hundred  and  thirteen  dates, 
suggesting  as  many  important  points  of  history, 
one  for  each  week-day  of  the  year,  v.  ere  begun 
upon  New  Y.ar's  with  a  review  once  a  week  or 
once  a  month,  a  good  knowledge  of  past  events 
might  be  gained,  and  the  memory  would  be  held 


w- 


GROWING   OLD. 


«39 


■  faculties  lie 
)  the  limbs  of 
of  using  that 
ity.  Then  it 
le  rest.  The 
smind."  As 
anhood,   ' '  A 

ay  injure  the 
break  up  the 
i  powers,  yet 
ig  as  long  as 

'  my  memory 
truth:  "Be- 
memory  as  in 
,nd  it  is  grow- 
)le  mnemonic 
y  of  one  text 
f  of  the  mind 
or  book  upon 
/igor.  If  the 
hirteen  dates, 
ts  of  history, 
,  v.ere  begun 
ice  a  week  or 
■A  past  events 
nrould  be  held 


in  strength  by  the  discipline.  This  will  be  found 
to  be  an  excellent  exercise  in  a  family,  a  thou- 
sand times  better  table-talk  than  the  ordinary 
chitchat. 

The  terminology  of  -any  branch  of  natural 
science  would  make  as  good  mnemonic  gymnas- 
tics, helping  the  young  people  to  a  sure  knowl- 
edge of  what  they  certainly  need  to  know,  and 
keeping  the  older  folk  from  degeneracy  on  ac- 
count of  the  disuse  of  memory. 

But  one  says,  "  I  am  so  full  of  work  and  care 
I  can  not  find  time  for  mental  discipline."  We 
take  time  to  eat  because  we  can  not  live  and  keep 
our  strength  for  work  without  food.  If  we  must 
starve  a  part  of  our  being,  let  it  not  be  the  no- 
bier,  the  better,  the  immortal. 

Where  there's  a  will  there's  a  way.  Elihu 
Burritt  mastered  languages,  science,  literature, 
while  supporting  his  family  by  working  at  his 
anvil. 

Let  the  successful  business  man  decide 
whether  it  will  pay  for  a  few  paltry  dollars  more 
than  his  neighbor  has  the  charge  of,  or  a  trifle 
better  furnished  house,  or  more  elegant  style  of 
living,  to  cramp  and  dwarf  his  mind  till  he  knows 
nothing  but  loss  and  gain  and  prices  current. 

Let  the  lady  who  never  has  time  for  study 
and  thought  weigh  the  matter  fairly,  and  decide 


.  (■ 


■^P 


.aiSaifS? 


■'m*''rm*ir'^wpm-wm^:^m. 


■:-'.'    l! 


240 


DIAMOND  DUST. 


whether  it  will  not  be  better  for  her  to  have  a 
few  pieces  less  of  the  twists  and  tangles  of 
bright  worsteds,  a  little  plainer  house-gear  and 
simpler  adornments  for  her  person,  and  secure  in- 
stead that  sure,  quiet  strength  of  soul  that  will 
enable  her  to  ward  off  the  attacks  of  old  age 
by  and  by. 

Work  or  perish  is  the  absolute  law.  When 
one  begins  to  say,  ' '  I  can  not  learn  that,  I  am 
too  old,"  his  doom  is  sealed.  Henceforth  the 
chimney-corner!  They  who  will  work  can  keep 
their  place  in  the  ranks  of  workers  in  spite  of 
of  Time. 

Humboldt  wrote  his  "Kosmos"  at  fourscore. 
Isocrates  finished  one  of  his  great  works  at 
ninety-seven.  Theophrastus  wrote  his-  keen  and 
sprightly  "Characters"  when  a  centenarian. 
Gorgias  lived  to  the  age  of  one  hundred  and 
seven,  and  died  with  the  significant  expression 
upon  his  lips,  "Sleep  is  now  beginning  to  lay 
me  in  the  hands  of  his  brother,"  Death  came 
to  Mary  Somei-ville  when  she  was  ni^iety-two, 
and  found  her  busy  upon  her  abstruse  and  difH- 
fult  astronomical  mathematics  —  working  her 
problems  only  a  few  hours  before  she  fell  asleep. 

But  the  greatest,  the  saddest  mistake  is  to 
imagine  that  the  years  must  dull  our  devotional 
fervor,  cripple  our  spiritual  powers,  and  destroy 


'wm 


ler  to  have  a 
i  tangles  of 
»use-gear  and 
md  secure  in- 
>oul  that  will 
s  of  old  age 

law.  When 
n  that,  I  am 
inceforth  the 
srk  can  keep 
i  in  spite  of 

at  fourscore, 
at  works  at 
his*  keen  and 

centenarian, 
hundred  and 
»t  expression 
nning  to  lay 

Death  came 
5  n»':ety-two, 
use  and  diffi- 
working  her 
le  fell  asleep, 
nistake  is  to 
ur  devotional 

and  destroy 


MJJWW"^— F 


CROWING  OLD. 


241 


our  usefulness.  It  is  a  trick  of  Satan  to  crowd 
out  of  the  ranks  those  who  have  the  best  equip- 
ment for  service — a  ripe,  full  Christian  ex- 
perience. 

God  has  said,  "I  will  never  leave  thee,  nor 
forsake  thee."  Does  not  that  include  the  whole 
of  probation?  "My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee, 
for  my  strength  is  made  perfect  in  weakness." 
Does  not  that  cover  all  our  infirmities?  "Lo,  I 
am  with  you  alway,  even  unto  the  end  of  the 
world."  Does  not  his  presence  insure  constant 
development  and  growing  usefulness? 

I  remember  a  beautiful  woman  who  could 
hardly  have  been  lovelier  in  any  of  her  life  than 
in  the  last  years,  when  she  was  over  ninety. 
She  entertained  us  at  the  piano  with  music  that 
she  composed  sixty  years  before.  She  was  fully 
in  sympathy  with  all  the  aggressive  work  of 
good  people,  and  kept  pace  in  her  prayers  and 
faith  with  each  movement.  "I  can't  go  to 
your  missionary  meeting  to-night,"  she  said  in 
her  sweet,  simple  way,  as  we  were  starting  to 
our  anniversary,"  but  I  will  try  and  help  a  little 
here  at  home." 

"I  knew  you'd  have  a  good  meeting,"  she 
said,  when  we  returned,  her  face  aglow  with  the 
glory  of  the  world  beyond.  "My  heart  was  so 
warm  when  I  talked  to  the  Master  about  your 

16 


n 


latm 


DIAMOND  DUST. 

work."  Who  can  tell  which  rendered  the  most 
helpful  service  that  night,  we  at  the  church,  or 
she  in  her  room  "talking  to  the  Master?" 

As  sunset  hours  are  usually  the  most  glorious 
of  the  day,  so  the  last  years  ought  to  be,  of 
all,  most  replete  with  beauty  and  excellence, 
rich  with  the  ingatherings  of  time  and  the  fore- 
shadowings  of  the  blessedness  that  is  soon  to  be 
revealed.  "The  hoary  head  is  a  crown  of  glory 
if  it  be  found  in  the  way  of  righteousness." 

For  what  a  glorious,  eternal  garnering  may 
one  hope  who  has  spent  a  long  life  in  the  serv- 
ice of  the  Master. 


"^^ 


:red  the  most 
le  church,  or 
aster?" 
most  glorious 
ht  to  be,  of 
i  excellence, 
and  the  fore- 
is  soon  to  be 
rown  of  glory 
)usness." 
irnering  may 
e  in  the  serv- 


"'~"'*"^TT**"!^'"f"'"»TW^*'^»f"H(<HR«lf!"WmP 


iiW£iis.;i.iii.-:r.:L:^'ii.;siixi^ 


.rj;2;Sijisis:-s!ers?K>aeaicsf.s-'sm;«^«»jfKi!^ 


[ 


y 


W^^^^^^^^&^i 


■■■■,ij  '■^>  wy/'V';*^*''.-  "'^'.yr'^ 


